The Boy in the Bottle
by Twilight-Deviant
Summary: Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of I Dream of Jeannie. Slash. Vlad/Danny.
1. I Dream of Danny

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T?

**Chapter One: **I Dream of Danny

Like many fics I "write" this was only going to be something that I typed out in notes and then never did anything with. Ever. However, I ended up liking where it went so much that I decided to actually write it. I hope you enjoy it as well. Though I must warn there's no promise that it will ever be finished. Read at your own risk.

Beginning is slow and much like the series _I Dream of Jeannie_ (if you've ever watched). Because of differences in the characters of the two shows though, it will quickly derail from my initial inspiration- aka: watching too much _I Dream of Jeannie_.

* * *

The smooth and tender skin of his feet scraped against the unforgiving stone beneath them. What remained of his toenails that did not chip away painfully with his climbing, piled with the dirt of the small mountain. His left shoe had been lost to him during the tiring swim to shore late the previous night. The right mate to it had been discarded early on for symmetry. Now he longed for the return of both.

He paused on a small landing and undid the buttons of his cuffs, rolling the sleeves of his shirt past his elbows. The heat of a midday's sun was becoming quite unbearable on the tropical island he now unwillingly inhabited. After noticing the tears around the bottoms of his suit pants, he rolled them up as well, just to his shins to prevent further ripping.

At last, some five minutes later, the man finally reached the top of his own private Everest. Holding his hands above his eyes— the long fingers of each shading them at least a little from the sun— he surveyed the terrain of the island, watchful for any sign of civilization.

"Uninhabited," he sighed as he realized that there was nothing in his line of sight save for trees, sand, and ocean. The man sat down after another hopeful moment of scrutiny and dug his palms into his eyes. He was in no hurry to walk back down the mountain, not with the still throbbing pain in his feet. "If I make it out of this alive," he promised himself, "I'm going to buy this island and make a… hotel, or something. I _suppose _I should be thankful for its saving me, but I believe… it could do with a few more people."

When high noon became too harsh and unbearable upon the heated rock below him, the man decided that it was time to descend. He had seen the occasional movie in his free time and could not imagine himself as the eventual wild man that being stranded had done to the actors' characters. Thus, when he reached the shore again and wanted nothing more than a rest in its sea breeze, he pushed himself instead to work towards his rescue.

He retook his spot on the clear space of beach he had first crawled onto the preceding night. That had been when he was exhausted beyond all reason, but still somewhat hopeful. Maybe he wasn't the only survivor of the plane crash. The pilot or co-pilot could have been near. And perhaps the sand he had collapsed upon belonged to some beach resort that rested just beyond the tropical trees. However, when he had awoken that morning, it became increasingly aware that he was alone, an unfortunate concept only cemented into place by his mountain climb.

Now he would retake what hope could be had though. The man began by grabbing any and all fallen limbs and logs that were not too terribly sun bleached and would better stick out to passing planes or ships. The smaller ones he threw to the side, only wanting to create the biggest writing of "S.O.S." in the sand that he could.

"If this doesn't work," he told himself, "I'll burn the entire island as a smoke signal." He would not see himself growing an unruly beard and unkempt, tangled hair. Either he would leave the island or die in his attempt.

When he had taken all he could from the beach, the man moved further in, under the canopy of trees. Walking for a second or so, he came upon a thick and dark branch nestled between two trees that would work perfectly. It was almost as big as a tree itself. The thing looked to have been dead for some time, and it was his underestimation of its weight that strained his arms and made him drop the wood almost as soon as he had picked it up. As it fell back into its long occupied space, however, there was an odd noise that struck the man's ears. It was the sound of two hard, solid objects hitting, a sort of clinking hum. However, one of the objects causing it was most decidedly _not _a tree.

Curious, he rolled the heavy log away as best he could. His toes then shuffled through the vine-like foliage that grew along the ground, covering the sand. It didn't take long until his foot met the rounded end of something. Kneeling down, he pulled the entire object from its bed in the sand and examined it. He was at once excited yet forlorn at the discovery of what appeared to be some old decanter of alcohol. The good news in it came from the fact that there must have once been people on the island. Of course, the bad news that held its hand unwaveringly with the good was that the bottle he had just found had rested under the ground, under perhaps years of undergrowth. There was truly no telling how long ago its past owner had left it there.

When he looked to it again though, he noted the vibrant colors upon the bottle and how they had not diminished in its forgotten hole. There was a wider, rounded base to it that carried a theme of green and black all the way to its narrowed opening. Loops and swirls and fans of the colors spread along the bottle, occasionally with the besprinkling of white here or there. The still darkened black, bright vibrant greens, and pure whites made the man think that perhaps the bottle had not been there long at all, not and having preserved its colors in the dirt so well.

At once inquisitive upon the length of its stay, he decided to remove the stopper and sample the smell of however few drops of liquid might still be inside. It would surely give him at least an estimate and whether he should put his faith in it further.

It took three good pulls to finally remove the corked lid from its home. When he had, his nose was almost to its opening when a small stream of smoke began to spring forth. There was no time to even wonder about it, however, when the cloud erupting grew in magnitude and fierceness, adapting a garishly vivid green hue. The bottle fell from his hand, both from his shock and the force pushing against it as smoke continued to bellow forth.

As if the peculiar nature of the wispy smoke could not increase, the man noticed that instead of wafting away and into the sky, the smoke emitted by the bottle floundered over, falling to the ground in a small arc from its source.

Slowly, it began to dissipate, rolling away leisurely like a thick fog stuck in the air. As each tendril detached itself from the rest, however, there became the increasingly apparent and undeniable form of a person's silhouette. The man stared into the smoke, trying to pierce it with sight alone. Then, what seemed like all at once, the air cleared and in its wake there stood before him the form of a young teenage boy, looking back at him with a face caught between unwarranted annoyance and overflowing joviality.

A million and one questions were on the man's tongue, but before he had even been given the chance to voice a single one, the bubbling happiness in the boy won out. He ran to the man— who was still stuck to the spot, baffled. His eyes, as green and luminous as the smoke that had born them, closed in delight as he charged the other, capturing him in a surprisingly snug embrace as he muttered excitedly in a beautiful foreign tongue.

It wasn't until the man had managed to pry the teenager off that he was able to take his appearance in a little better. His hair was a stark white, bright as sun shining on snow, and lighter even than the man's own that had prematurely turned gray some years ago. The short strands fell around the boy's tanned face, framing it in a brilliant contrast. His dark skin, likewise, went on to stand against the white trim of his vest, which itself was a deep black whose satin material barely caught the light. As he continued to hold the mysterious figure at arm's length, he noticed the overall peculiarity of the outfit. It looked like some costume belonging to a Persian harem or the likes. The man was just noticing its completeness, all the way down to the slippers, when the boy's enthusiasm overpowered his fairly tired frame and pounced again, wrapping his thin arms around him tightly.

He tried to pull the boy off once more, glad that his indignant attitude towards the strange person and his continued invasions of his personal space finally helped him settle on a question, a simple one: who are you? When he at last had the other off him a small bit, he opened his mouth to speak. Only he had no sooner taken the breath to do so that teen covered his lips with his own in a startlingly passionate kiss.

The surprise that usurped the man's body stalled him from action for so long that by the time he had the thought to push him away, the boy had already extracted himself and was darting from under the trees. He didn't seem to be necessarily running away from the older man, as evidenced by the animated display he made prancing back and forth along the sand. It was quite a confusing, but endearing, sight to its onlooker.

When finally he stopped in one place for a moment, basking in the sun and extending his arms up to meet it, the man pulled him aside, trying once more to sequester some answers. "Who are you? And what, may I ask, was all of that with the bottle there?"

The irritated expression that had been upon the boy's face for a short time before returned, and he glared at the man before answering in a brief, curt reply, a language that was in no way English. Growling in frustration, the man stared angrily as the teen breathed the fresh sea air greedily into his lungs and massaged his arms as if he could rub the coveted sunshine into them.

A minute or so of this action went by before realization presented itself to the man, reached by remembering the farfetched stories from his childhood. He looked quickly to the grove of trees they had left and ran to it, recovering the painted bottle that had been dropped there.

"You," he called as he raced back, noticing the contented smile as the boy dug his now bare toes into the wet sand of the beach. "You are a genie, aren't you?"

The exotic teen looked at the man in passive annoyance, as if he was lucky to be spared a glance, and pointed to himself before crossing his arms. "Djinn."

Suddenly, a light was turned on in the man's newly bleak existence. Just when he thought that life could not possibly become more cruel for him, the world turned and showered him with good fortune. What luck! Here before him was a genie, _his_ genie. He was more than saved; he was blessed. Anything he wanted was now his with but a couple of words.

In his excitement, it took the man several minutes to work through his priorities. He would need to be rescued first, yes. After that, he could begin wishing for frivolities. "Genie, I wish for a plane," he stated. The boy looked at him and then back out to the sea. "A plane… you know." He sat the bottle down in the sand and extended his arms like the wings of an aircraft. "A plane." His arms raised up and down to simulate flight.

Sighing in a bored manner, the teen looked to him. He muttered something that did not sound at all polite before blinking his eyes purposefully. At once, there appeared a great vulture on the man's outstretched arm. He almost fell back in surprise as a yelp escaped his throat. It took a good many shakes of his arm to do away with the foraging bird, and by the time it was gone, he noticed that his genie had been laughing mercilessly at him the entire duration.

"Not funny, boy," he scolded angrily, his tone forcing the other to somber up. "I want off of this island. I don't care how, just do it." The other only stared at him in confusion, and so he tried hand signals again. "I want _me_," he pointed a finger to his chest, "off of this _island_." He then pointed out to the waves and away from where they stood.

The ends of the boy's lips grew upwards in a terribly sly smirk, and the man at once realized his mistake. He did not have even a second's time to take his words back, however, before the teen blinked his green eyes once more. And then he was off of the island, only… he was hovering above the salty waves of the ocean. They came to meet him all too soon as he was dropped into them, fighting at once to swim up. He spit the foul water from his mouth and took in the sweet air as he broke the surface. Looking around, he noticed that he was not too far from his previously occupied island. It was simply further than he felt like swimming, again.

After what must have been several long moments of kicking his legs and tearing through the water, the man finally managed to drag himself back to the sandy shores. He took only a second to catch his breath before charging up to the teen that rolled along the beach, kicking up sand in his fit of hysterical laughter.

Terribly angered, the older man summoned the remnants of his strength and dug his fingers into the boy's vest, hauling him to his feet. "Listen here, son," he ground out from between clenched teeth. "I know you're twisting my words. It ends here." He paused for a minute, wondering how to back up such a severe statement, before it dawned on him. Deviously happy, he said, "I wish you spoke English."

Realizing at once that the joke was over, the boy pushed away from him irritably and crossed his arms, blinking angrily. "What more would you have me do… Master?"

* * *

…I just wrote a whole chapter without using a single name. o_o I just like to formally introduce characters before I use their names. Weird, I know. But it's not like you don't know who they are. Haha.


	2. The Blue Djinn

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T

Such wonderful reviews! How could I not submit more? Thank you very much, all of you. I got a little blush on my cheeks from all of the praise. You'll be happy to know that I actually have five chapters written already, but I'm taking my time submitting them. I like to look over things vigorously. I was even making changes to this chapter right up until I submitted it.

It is soooo hard to make Danny speak how I want him to but still make him sound in character to himself. Know that it's just something that will have to be worked through until he adapts to English more. I did it on purpose and not because I have no idea who he is or what he talks like. Just… so you know.

**Chapter Two: **The Blue Djinn

* * *

"What more would you have me do… Master?"

The man smiled in accomplishment as he looked over his now suddenly much more subservient genie. He shook the excess drops of water from his soaked pants, rolling down the cuffs he had made earlier that now only trapped the salty liquid. "What I want, my dear boy, is my salvation from this island." His wish was already on his lips once more, but he gave pause. The other _was_ speaking English now… "But, since you're in a much more talkative mood now, I'd like to hear an explanation from you first. I never thought that I'd get to learn about an actual supernatural being from the source, as opposed to theories or fiction. I wouldn't mind hearing the circumstances of my own little unpleasant genie."

"What is there to tell?" the boy muttered in unexpected exhaustion, hurling himself to the ground and staring despondently at the water that lapped the shore. He sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his legs. "For two thousand years I have been trapped inside of that bottle." He nodded his head lightly towards where the aforementioned object sat nestled in the sand near them.

"Seems like an occupational hazard, if you ask me," the man retorted.

"I have not always been a genie!" the other was fast to reply, looking up at him with sad eyes, mournful to his own fate. The older man sat down next to him, watching the teen and waiting for him to continue. It was interesting to observe the hesitance so clear in him, as if he did not want to say anything of himself but couldn't banish the words from his tongue. It, of course, made sense that after _two thousand years_ he was more than anxious to tell someone. Convenience had made that 'someone' his new master.

"I was a normal boy," he made himself begin at last. "My father was a merchant. I helped him in his trade and loved to assist, hoping to one day take it over when I was old enough." He stopped for a moment and looked down to the sand, dragging his finger through the grains in ornate swirls. "Until one day when I came upon some ruins far away from our house. It had recently become my job to go out and search for rarities to sell, you see. During my search of these ruins I found a freshly lit temple that looked inhabited. I hate my curiosity that made me look inside."

When there became such a long break in his speech that it seemed he may never continue, the man prompted him to go on. "And?"

"It _was_," he barked, suddenly angry. "Inhabited, I mean. There was a man inside, on a throne. He was scary to look at. Red eyes, like hellfire. But that was nothing compared to the real fire that grew on his head like hair, a white flame at that. His skin was a pale and blue, more haunting than a corpse. All around him were all kinds of luxuries: gold, jewels, wonderful foods, and women. He smiled at one of them and I saw sharpened fangs in his mouth." The boy took a minute to collect himself, seeing the face that had played through his head for so many years still so vividly. "I tried to leave, I did. Slowly, I began backing out of the temple. But I was grabbed by a guard almost as scary as the other man. He wore big armor with purple flames all around, and he had green eyes that looked at me from a darkness where a face should have been. He grabbed my arm very hard and dragged me before that demon on the throne…"

"And then?" the man asked after another lull in the conversation.

"He told me…" The boy spoke slowly. "He said that I was very pretty, comparing me to a girl," he spat, livid at the remembered indignation he had felt then. "He said… that he was a powerful genie known to those who met and feared him as the Blue Djinn. I told him to let me go and was denied. Then he said he was 'quite taken' with me and that, if I would agree to belong to him, anything I could ever want would be mine. All that I would have to do would be to pledge myself to him and forget all thoughts of independence."

"You said no," the man surmised.

"Of course I did," the teenager scoffed. "I do not want a life of captivity, and I told him as much. I said that I did not want to belong to another, could _never_ belong to another. I said such a life was cursed and unbearable on the spot!"

"I imagine he did not like your response."

"No." The boy paused, his expression quite sullen. He looked up towards the sky, seemingly indifferent to the bright sun that shone directly into his eyes. "It made him really mad. And in his anger he saw fit to give me the flawed limitations of his kind. He turned me into a genie, giving me all the powers that he himself possessed. But then he forced me into that bottle and sealed it shut, so I could know true imprisonment. After that, rather than keeping me for himself, or putting me in some spot common to people, he saw fit to place me here, this small deserted island."

"Yes, I don't think this little isle has seen more than the three of us in its entire lifetime," the older man commented, still upset himself at the vacant spit of land.

"I do not think so," he smiled sadly in agreement. "And then, before he left me, the Blue Djinn said that, should any soul ever happen upon me here, I would truly understand what it meant to belong to another, and it would be far worse than if I had given in to him. Because if I had been his, he would have waited on my every command. Now I am honestly condemned, belonging to another as their prisoner and slave."

"And then he left you here, for two thousand years?"

"Yes," the boy replied, bobbing his head up and down. "Although he did say before leaving that when I do begin to hate my life of servitude, he would always be willing to forgive me and take me back. But I do not want to, even now. He is a fiend."

The man nodded in thought, surprised the teenager had divulged so much to him and all at once, especially given his earlier performance of dislike. It was more than obvious now that he really had been looking for an audience to tell his story to. And what a tale it was, the man reflected, contemplating all of what he had just heard. On the one hand, he was now the owner of a magical entity that could be made to do anything he asked without refusal, though perhaps a little impudence. On the other hand, however, he would have to be careful to never push the boy past his limits because surely there existed some line that, when crossed, might actually result in his taking the evil genie up on his offer and leaving him.

"Then I suppose I will have to make sure you never feel the need to go back to him," he smirked, trying to win his genie over early on and prevent such a happening.

"Thank you," the teen smiled happily. He made to embrace the man again when the other stopped him with an outstretched hand. "But what can I do for you, Master?" he asked, sitting back on his bent legs.

"For starters," he replied, "I want off of this island. I think the best rescue would be a plane."

"A… plane?" the boy asked, quizzically.

"Yes, it's…" The man thought on how to explain planes a bit better. "It's a large metal machine that flies through the air like a bird. People ride inside of them. For landing on an island, I think we'll either need a helicopter or a seaplane. Yes, I believe we'll go with a seaplane. It has special legs to land on water with."

"Ah," he answered in slight understanding. "Then that is what you wish for?"

"Yes, I wish for a seaplane to come and rescue me."

The boy climbed to his feet excitedly and pulled the other onto his. When they had steadied themselves, he crossed his arms and said, "As you wish, Master."

As soon as his eyes had opened again from the closing that seemed to beget his magic, the man heard the distant humming of an engine on the horizon.

"Ah-hah! I'm saved!" he exclaimed. The genie smiled for him, until a suddenly apprehensive look was turned on him. "I won't be able to explain you. Quick, get back in your bottle."

"I will not!" he huffed, at once appalled at the thought. "You obviously have no concept of time, or you would not ask me to do that. I have been in there for two millennia! I have memorized the painting on the walls, the stitches in the cushions. What a terrible master you are."

"But your master I am!" he yelled, holding the bottle up in front of the teen. "Now get…" He paused and took a calming breath, trying to be civil with the other. "I will not put the stopper back on, all right? This is not captivity, only temporary concealment."

"I suppose," the boy drawled uncertainly. "And you will not replace the top?"

"I promise," he almost growled.

Content with the answer, the genie closed his eyes and nodded his head, rolls of green smoke overtaking his body until nothing solid remained. Then the wisps of what was left slithered into the open bottle.

Not wasting any time, the man grabbed his long discarded suit jacket that he had taken off some hours ago and wrapped it around his genie's container snuggly before pocketing the unused lid.

By the time he had finished and turned around, he saw a familiar form running up the beach towards him. "Vlad!" it yelled. As the person came closer, the large stature of a man became increasingly apparent until he was right upon him. "You're alive." He ran an exasperated hand over his almost completely shaved head, his fingers lingering in the one part that was not and fiddling with his long green mohawk.

"Of course I am, Skulker," he replied haughtily, walking past his employee. "It will take more than a plane crash to do away with Vlad Masters."

"Any others?" he asked, quick to follow his newly rescued boss.

"I'm afraid not. The pilots went down with the craft." He paused in his walk towards the idling seaplane. "Make sure that Riter offers our condolences and reparations to the families." The larger man nodded and offered a helping hand into the waiting aircraft. "Straight home to Wisconsin," he made sure to tell the pilot.

Vlad then settled into his overly plush seat, feeling he could at last rest well in the cool leather. There were many things to attend to when he made it home, after all.

* * *

Names! Yay. Fewer pronouns.

By the by, I happily write Danny as being a bit bipolar at times. Sometimes he'll hate Vlad. Sometimes he'll like him. Sometimes he'll instigate make-out sessions. (Wha?) I feel like with two thousand years with no one but himself around, he probably developed just a slight touch of the crazies. Just sayin.

Not that he isn't a total hormonal woman in the series. You know it's true. Just look at 'Torrent of Terror'. After so much time in the bottle here, he's probably forgotten how to even use emotions correctly around other people. Hahaha.

Also, mmm. Dark Phantom as the Blue Djinn. Now I just have to cement the idea I'm working on of how to put him in the story. How could I not have my second favorite pair in here? Fufufu~


	3. Home Again, Home Again

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T

Okay. So the plan had been for me to update every three days. (Generous, I think.) However, now I apparently have a job. Oops. The good news is that mindless work will give me a chance to let my thoughts wander free and think of more things to incorporate here.

**Chapter Three: **Home Again, Home Again

* * *

The restful feeling in his bones let Vlad Masters know at once that he had fallen asleep. After the two days he had just experienced, something as wonderful as a good rest was able to pierce even the veil of unconsciousness. And as soon as he knew he was sleeping, he made sure to wake himself up. There would be plenty of time for relaxation later.

As with the last time he had caught himself idling by the land of Nod on his long flight, he made sure to do a test, feeling through the jacket that sat on his lap for the bottle within. Until he felt it and was positive that it had not been a dream in itself, he could not be calm.

"You want I should hold that for you?" Skulker asked from where he sat behind him, large boots propped up in the empty seat to his side.

"Thank you, no," the man replied, shaking his head courteously. "And don't act so subservient. You're my bodyguard, not a nameless butler."

"Yes, and maybe if I were good at my job, I would have been there when your plane went down." He seemed genuinely melancholic over the situation, and what should have warmed the other's heart only angered him at the thought of the man acting so out of character.

"Oh, you can stop that pity train now. I hired you for your steel nerves and lack of a conscience. I'm afraid that if you turn so affectionate on me, I will have to fire you," he scolded, resting his neck against the back of the chair. "Besides, had you been there with me, there's a chance you might have died. Then I would have to look for your replacement instead of taking a nice warm bath like I am so looking forward to right now."

"I believe we're only thirty minutes from the airfield," Skulker offered.

"Good," he commented, doing his best to keep his tired eyes from closing.

—

When they finally did land, Vlad noticed his personal assistant waiting on the strip, leaning against the hood of his car and holding what appeared to be a shoebox.

"Riter," he greeted the man when he climbed into the cabin of the plane. "I take it that Skulker informed you of my shoe-related misfortune." The other nodded and attempted to put socks on the man's feet before he kicked him off. "I'm quite capable of doing that myself. Skulker didn't tell you that I'd become a quadriplegic, did he?"

"No, he didn't," Riter said with a grain of humility. A little green and smoldering fire seemed to flash in his eyes at having his highly bought and salaried concern towards his boss turn into him looking stupid. "There's a clean suit in my car if you'd like to change your clothes as well."

Vlad shook his head as he pulled one of his nice new shoes on and began tying its laces. "No, there's no point. I plan on going straight home and to a bath."

"No quick trip to the hospital, for assurances sake?" he questioned.

"I know nothing is wrong with me," Vlad scoffed, tapping his shoes on the plane's floor. "Other than the fact that I'm still quite covered in sand and want to wash it off of me. Unless you called for the car, give me a ride home, Riter. I don't feel like waiting."

The man nodded briskly— in no way feeling like forcing the other to confirm his well-being— before pushing the oval frames of his glasses further up his nose. "I'll go get it started then."

Several minutes later, Vlad looked out the window of the car at the clouded Wisconsin day. He knew that he should have been more appreciative to see a sight he had almost regarded as lost forever some hours ago, but the bleak nature of the weather was only dampening his spirits. "You know, it was quite a terrible little island, but the weather was nice," he muttered offhandedly. "I sort of wish it were more sunny here."

"And it looks like you may get your wish, sir," Riter answered from the driver's seat next to him. "The clouds are parting up ahead."

"So they are," Vlad smiled, devious thoughts playing just below the surface that pulled his lips up. He petted the bottle through the material.

—

The first thing he did when he was inside of the fantastic castle he called his home was run up the stairs as quickly as his nearly worn out legs would carry him and dash into his private study. He then locked the door and sprinted to his desk. Though he could feel his genie's bottle quite clearly through the suit jacket, there was a paranoia that had descended upon him since the plane ride and showed no signs of leaving until he could once again set his eyes on the boy.

"Genie?" he called, sitting his coveted belonging on the stained wood of his desk. "Genie, you may come out now."

A sigh of relief fell as he watched the customary green smoke billow forth from the opening. It fell over in a small curve onto the desk, some wisps spreading out and flowing over pens and papers. When the cloud took form, Vlad saw the teen sitting casually on the desktop, right leg draped across the left with the stripes adorning his flowing pants running languidly into each other. He did notice though that there was quite an unfortunate glare on the boy's face, directed at him. "My name is not 'Genie'. I will thank you not to bring up my unfortunate lot in life by calling me that."

"You seem so coarse all of a sudden," Vlad remarked. He was hesitant to separate from the boy, but slowly managed to tear himself away and step towards his private bar for a drink. A little nip was definitely what he needed in that moment.

"I told you that I did not want to go back in that bottle and you made me," he growled. Passive aggressively he began knocking— no doubt— important documents to the floor with the flick of a finger.

"But I also let you back out again." The man poured himself a strong scotch, holding up his glass with a nod as a way of asking if the boy would like one as well. He was quite surprised when he received an acquiescent reply.

"More," the teen said after seeing the older male had only decanted him a sip. "More." Vlad watched the amount in the glass rise until he had poured his genie even more than himself.

"I think you're underestimating it," he smirked, sadistically excited to watch the expression on the boy's face when he tasted the alcohol. However, it was his surprise put on display as he watched the other down the contents in a single gulp.

"This is how you should unwind at the end of the day," the genie laughed, reclining back until he was lying down on the large desk, only his legs dangling off. "Nothing can beat that warming feeling it makes in your stomach. Right, Master?"

"No, I agree," he said, sipping at his own glass as he sat down in his chair next to the relaxing teenager. "Quite the heavy drinker, aren't you?"

"Well, before being imprisoned, I had drank a little, when my parents looked away." Despite his taking to the drink so well, it was amusing how instantaneous the red glow to the boy's cheeks sprouted up. "And after that… I think it was about all that kept me from going crazy. Once I figured out how to make wine… the hours sort of began blurring together. It certainly made time go by much quicker, as quick as two thousand years _can _go by anyway."

"Yes, I do suppose that's a pretty good amount of time to build up a tolerance." Vlad couldn't quell the question that arose to his mind and spread to his lips. "How old are you, my boy? Fifteen?"

Bright green eyes opened wide in outrage before narrowing in ire. "I am older than you," he spat, rearranging to lay long ways on the desk, pillowing his head with his arm as he rested on his side so he could stare at the man better. "Perhaps you forgot. I am over two thousand years old. Maybe my body has not changed, but I have more years to my age than you could even think about existing through yourself."

"Yes, of course. Do forgive me. If you don't mind my asking though, how old _were _you? When you were—"

"Sixteen," he replied curtly, turning over onto his back and looking to the ceiling. "I am stuck at sixteen. Thanks to the Blue Djinn."

The man hid a snort at the big tiff the other had made over his mistake of guessing wrongly by a year. Though perhaps if he would have no more physically, his foremost thought would always be to claim as many years as possible. "You know that if you truly did show your age," Vlad commented, somehow trying to make amends, "you would be worse than dust. There wouldn't be a particle of you left."

The boy didn't respond though, his eyes betraying that he was deep in thought.

"Well," the man stated all at once before clearing his throat. "How about we introduce ourselves formally? My name is Vlad Masters. I am quite an important businessman who inherited a company from a distant uncle of mine. Ever since then, I've turned a large profit with it and have branched out to numerous other businesses. And you are?"

"My name is Danny, and you already know my past, Master Masters."

"Please, only one 'master'," Vlad chuckled. "I'm not a big fan of redundancy. But your name is _just_ Danny? Surely that must be short for something."

"It is," the teen shrugged, sitting up on the desktop again. "But I doubt you would be able to pronounce it. Your English language is lazy and slow. It has carried over into speech and destroyed any nimble movement your tongue may have had. Therefore, you may call me Danny."

It had been quite a long time since a person had as good as called Vlad an incapable idiot to his face. He had reached a point where people were too afraid of him, and rightfully so. He fumed silently for a moment, watching the boy from the corner of his eye, who watched the wind outside the glass passively. Finally, he worked through his riled state enough to say something. "I—"

"Have you given any thought to your wishes yet, Master?" the other interrupted before he had really commenced in telling him off. "Shall we begin now? They are unlimited, you are aware. I am, unfortunately, bound in my servitude until you release me. Or, I suppose, some sort of tragic accident happens to you." The man tried to ignore the subtle and calculating smirk he saw connected to that last sentence.

"I… actually put a great deal of thought into it on the way home," Vlad spoke distractedly, willing himself to work past, and pay no attention to, the genie's cheeky backhanded insults and ever so subtle threats. "Things are much different in the world today, my boy. You see, two millennia ago, a man could easily have wished for all the grandeur an avaricious heart could desire, with no repercussions. Today though, there are branches of government and law specifically designed— and with no better job to do than— to monitor should someone's fortunes change suddenly and unexpectedly. What I'm saying," he began elaborating when he saw the openly confused look on the boy, "is that there are lawmen who monitor extreme financial growth of a person. If the source of it cannot be traced, then they immediately assume the riches were obtained under the table through illegal means."

"Master," Danny sighed exhaustedly. "Tell me now. Do you have any wishes or not?"

"Oh, at this moment I would love nothing better than billions more in the bank, several mansions in various settings, and an absolute takeover of all of my rival corporations." The boy smiled, nodding his head, seemingly ready to grant them all. "However," he continued, "wishing for them would give me more trouble than they are worth. I would be investigated first thing tomorrow morning." An exasperated groan escaped the teen. "Therefore, I have decided to be patient with my wishes. (I pride myself on my patience, you know.) I will begin with small, immediate things. After that, I shall work up to wishes that force fortune in my direction. And then, eventually, I will put your powers to real tests."

"Why could I not have had a pigheaded master?" the teen huffed, mumbling to himself. "Instead, I am cursed with one who thinks too much and is perhaps a little disturbed."

"You can stop your insults right now," Vlad growled, thrumming his fingers along the desk. "And, yes, I can hear you. I'm two feet away. Now, genie—"

"Danny!"

"I wish that there was a nice warm tub of water awaiting me in the main bathroom down the hall. It has the biggest bath and I'm in the mood for a nice soak."

"Done," he said, after blinking his eyes with a slight nod. In truth, he felt his powers being rather wasted but said nothing as it was far less exhausting on him.

"Good," the man said, pushing back his chair and stepping to his feet. "I won't be gone for long. I don't care what you do, but don't leave the castle. Better yet, maybe you had best stay in your bottle so that no one will see you."

"I will not!" Danny objected, jumping to his feet in indignation.

"Have it your way then," Vlad shrugged, walking around his desk. "For now, simply stay out of trouble while I bathe. Perhaps when I return, we'll work on your obedience."

"Enjoy your bath," the teen muttered with a roll of his eyes, knowing at once that any 'obedience training' he may receive was going to be a waste of time. He belonged to the man only in body and magic.

—

The water was warm and inviting, just hot enough that its surface was covered in a thin layer of steam. There was a perfumed scent to the air as Vlad had decided to indulge in bath salts to do away with the extra layer of grime he felt on himself. His head was leaned against the high wall of the tub with a rolled up towel around his neck for cushion. With the sensation of the bath and the optimistic thought of things to come from having a genie, he could not help the contented smile that stole away onto his face. His life was about to become very, very good.

He grabbed a washcloth from the edge and pulled it through the water, soaking it, before draping the cloth over his tired face. It had not been a second or two of his doing that when he heard a pattering noise. Against his better judgment, he ignored it, assuming the sound to be a maid walking by outside the bathroom door.

In fact, he was so relaxed and so averse to the nice mood ending that he disregarded several more quiet sounds until, eventually, he heard a faint little splash and felt its ripples brush against him. Tearing the rag from his face in surprise, he looked up to see Danny standing in the bath, midway through the process of sitting down in the other end while making obvious the fact that it was not a tan but his natural skin color that darkened his lean form.

"What are you doing?" Vlad asked outrageously, crossing his legs that had been spread out comfortably.

"Obviously I am taking a bath, Master," the boy responded as he finally sat, creating several more undulating wrinkles in the water's surface.

"Oh," the man realized suddenly, shaking his head. "No, I understand what's going on here. I know that public baths were probably a normal and expected thing where you're from, but _here _we bathe alone." The genie glanced at him in a somewhat lazy curiosity before shrugging it off, grabbing a bar of soap. He clearly had no plans of leaving. "Get out! Get _out_! You can bathe later. Or in another room. I have several baths. Just get out."

Danny glared at him angrily, fingers curling around the soap. "This conserves water, Master. Anything else would be wasteful."

Vlad hated the fact that what the boy said made sense. It would make his point almost impossible to get across. "Look… Danny," he said, using the other's name to garner his attention, "I have plenty of money. Enough for millions upon millions of baths. So it is not important that we take one together."

"So you are wasteful?" The way it was said made the man feel terribly judged, as if he had just been thoroughly sized up. "You know that being wasteful like that means you are not grateful for what you have."

"Surely you don't want to share a bath though," he retorted, trying his best to win the boy with kindness and understanding. Honestly, he was a little rusty on that front. "You must have been horribly embarrassed as a teenager who had to bathe with other people. I'm sure of it."

"That— that is not the point," the teen mumbled, abashed. "Perhaps you bathe alone and waste this precious water, but I will not. Therefore, when I bathe, I will do so with you."

When the teen had finished and it came time for the man's rebuttal, he let the words die before they had even began. There was a set look in the other's eyes. He would not be leaving. However, Vlad did not want to leave either. If not only for the fact that he was there first, then because he sincerely did not want to stand up naked in front of the boy. "I will allow it this one time," he sighed, feeling quite uncomfortable with settling on the matter. Though really, it shouldn't have felt too odd. When he'd had the bathroom remodeled, he had splurged for a grand tub that could fit probably five people without them even touching. "I don't normally take a bath, you know. I typically use the shower. So you can forget the idea of bathing with me now."

"What is a shower?" the boy asked.

"It's… where the water comes out of a spout in the wall above your head, like a small, contained waterfall, you could say."

Danny nodded his head, thinking on what it must look like. After a moment, he said, "Then I shall take showers with you, to conserve the shower water."

"You most certainly will not!" he objected indignantly. "That's even more awkward."

The subject was argued about back and forth for several minutes, the master threatening his genie that he would use a wish if it came to it. By the time the teen conceded that he would not encroach on the other's shower time, the serene mood of Vlad's bath had been completely and irrefutably lost. He supposed that his future prosperity with the genie's power was not to be coming to him without its price.

* * *

I'm just going to go ahead and stop people who are happy (or upset?) that things are progressing between them so fast. Trust me. My little plot is a lot more drawn out than this. You'll have to wait a long time for a relationship. But, in the meantime, what's a shared bath between a man and his genie? I mean honestly?


	4. A Genie's Boudoir

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T

**Chapter Four: **A Genie's Boudoir

* * *

"Anything else I should know?" the teen prompted, gliding by backwards as if a defiance of gravity were a normal thing. He reclined back to lay in the air, facing the man that walked behind and fixing him with an unexplainable cocky look.

"Yes," Vlad scoffed at his showboating. "Get down from there." He used his hand that was not clutching the genie's bottle and grabbed the short black sleeve of the boy's vest, dragging him down to stand on the floor like a normal person. "Aside from the facts that you are never to disturb me again while I'm bathing, are required to hide yourself whenever someone else is near, and are under no circumstances allowed to disobey me when I order you to poof into your bottle, I do have some other things to say."

"I patiently await for your continued list of rules," Danny responded sardonically, floating just above the plush rug of the hallway to walk on air. It was a comforting, if small and trivial, act of disobedience.

"This one—" the man began before turning around to notice the boy and then pointing irritably to the floor. "Down!" He smoothed out the crimson fibers in the lavish cotton blend of his housecoat and rolled his shoulders before continuing to speak again. "This one is not a rule. I was just going to tell you about your room, my boy." The teen seemed intrigued enough, given the slight raising of an eyebrow. "As you can tell, my home is quite old, a refurbished castle actually. The master bedroom was made in that old style so that it has an adjoining boudoir for the original lady of the house connected to it. It's rather large, proportionate to the bedroom. I used to use it as my home office." He chuckled to himself. "But then I began to feel that I wasn't covering enough distance in a day. I would walk through one door all day and it was most unsatisfying."

"And…?"

"And it is yours now." Vlad stopped suddenly and the boy bumped into him. He waited for an apology but let it go when there wasn't one. The intricately carved door to their right was opened, and the man walked inside, turning on the light.

It was big enough, more than sufficient, especially when compared to the cramped space of his bottle. The walls were the same bland, grayish blue stone that had dominated the halls. Little sat in the room except for the occasional box, an old sitting chair, and a layer of dust. There was a grand window that covered several feet of the outward facing wall, recessed far enough to provide a two foot shelf that would be a nice ledge for sitting and looking out. In the end, that was all he needed or wanted: outside. Yes, this room would do.

"I like it," he smiled lightly, stepping further in. "Thank you, Master."

"Yes," Vlad said, leaning against the wall after shutting and locking the door. "There's no furniture, but I thought you could take care of that yourself. Just keep the door to the hallway locked until I tell the staff not to enter here, not that they do so often as it's not in use."

Danny nodded, still surveying the room. He grinned excitedly before dipping his head with a blink. The dust along the floor was gone and in its place laid an ornate Persian rug, covering almost the entire length of the room in its reds, golds, and occasional blacks. Vlad stepped over the section of rug that had covered his feet and watched the boy nod his head again. That time, the nearly broken, and quite dated, chair in the corner disappeared, along with the boxes, making the room look even more empty. Again he blinked his bright green eyes and a large, circular mattress was resting on the floor, a wide array of luxuriant pillows adorning its deep red sheets. The teen put his hands out in front of himself— palms flat and facing the floor— and then drew them down to his sides. As his hands dropped, sleek silk curtains fell from above the bed, mounted to the ceiling and falling all around as a canopy. He beamed happily before running across the room and jumping headfirst into the elaborately decorated mass.

Vlad laughed mockingly when the teen sunk into the feathered mattress, pillows falling over him in an avalanche until only his little black satin slippers stuck out. "Get yourself out of there and come here," he scolded, tapping his foot in impatience only to jump a second later when the boy appeared beside him suddenly, hair awfully askew. "Good. Now come here." He led the other to a door in the back right corner and opened it before walking through. Inside there was a short hallway with a door on either side. "My closet," he gestured to the right, "and the bathroom." He then pointed to the left. It was a quick explanation as he strode through the hall and to its end, opening the door there. "And this is my bedroom."

He turned the light on, and Danny looked around in a quick curiosity. However, the room betrayed nothing of the man as it was quite impersonal. There was a bed— intimidating in its large size— decorated in deep greens and trimmed in gold with a canopy and window curtains of the same color scheme. Pushed against the window was an organized, and seemingly unused, darkly colored oak desk with a large wingchair under it. On either side of the bed there was a night table, matching in color and style to the desk. But aside from those things, the only other furniture in the room was a coffee table positioned between a set of chairs and an idle fireplace.

"Boring," the teen fake yawned, stretching his arm in the air.

"It serves its purpose," Vlad scoffed crossly, setting the bottle he had been carrying upon the nightstand. "This is where your bottle will stay at night. During the day, it will be in my office, and should I ever have to leave on a business trip, the two of you will come with me."

Danny shrugged, accepting the facts given to him. "And what now, Master?"

"Now?" the man repeated, loosening the tie on his robe before taking it off to reveal black silk pajamas. "I'm going to bed." He pulled back the blankets and loosened his pillow before sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Go to sleep yourself, stay awake, I don't care," he said, stifling a yawn. "Just don't leave your room."

"I guess I will sleep," Danny said, thinking on it before nodding his head. "You are not the only one who had a big day. After all, I am free from my bottle for the first time in two thousand years. The excitement has left me exhausted."

"Very well," he said, leaning back into his pillow. "Turn off the light on your way out."

The teen stared at the light switch for a moment, utterly puzzled, until Vlad told him to flick it down. When the room was enveloped in all the darkness the moon outside would allow, Danny muttered, "Goodnight, Master."

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Goodnight… Danny," the man mumbled passively, situating himself into his bed.

—

Danny stared at the glossy canopy above his bed. His eyes were tired yet could not close, so they watched unblinkingly as the moon glistened off of the silk. He was not sure, but he felt that almost three hours had gone by without his being able to sleep. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes he could almost _hear _the rushing air in the room, alerting him that it was many times larger than the bottle he had been sleeping in for countless years.

Already in his sleeplessness he had seen fit to decorate his room more, as a way of trying to tire himself. Now there were curtains outlining the window, tapestries decorating the walls, and a myriad of other smaller things. On the wall opposite his bed he had placed a low table with cushions all around, an ornate tea set sitting on top. The old, bland light fixture he had exchanged with a chandelier, almost gaudy in its extravagance. Never before had he been able to decorate in such opulence— his bottle being the small area it was— and he almost hated that his inspiration was the temple of the Blue Djinn, a place burned into his memory.

Rolling onto his side, he grasped a rectangular pillow and held it, glancing out the window at the bright and shining moon. Even though he had filled his new bedroom with so many things, there was no denying its size. Maybe he was not used to the idea of freedom from his bottle yet. Though he hated it so intensely, it was the only home he'd had for two millennia.

Perhaps for only one more night…

—

Vlad awoke to the sunlight streaming through the window and into his eyes. He dragged his arm, still heavy with sleep, and covered his face with it to block out the rays. How odd. Usually, he had the forethought to close the curtains before going to bed. What could have…

He sat up suddenly in bed, all grogginess struck from his body in an instant. Ah, yes. His genie had been a bit of a distraction last night. _His_ genie. He owned a genie.

A smirk manifested onto his face as he threw back the blankets. He just needed to… see the boy again. The bottle beside him could not offer the security that actually looking upon Danny did. He could not rest until he had made sure once more that it had not been a dream. Jumping from his bed, he opened one door and then another, glancing around his previously spare room. Apparently some changes had been made during the night. Vlad tried not to recoil at the wall-hanging of a troupe of hunters graphically stabbing a tiger with their spears. To each his own, he supposed.

When he came to the round bed, the man glanced at the gathering of pillows. He didn't particularly want to wake the genie just yet as it was early and he wanted the boy well rested for the day. Quietly, he tore away one pillow and then another, discontent until he would be able to see a foot or a hand, something. Soon there was a pile on the floor, and as it increased, Vlad became more and more frantic. Where was he?

It became obvious when there were more pillows off the bed than on that his genie was not there. He had told him not to leave the room! Stomping back to his own bedroom, Vlad snatched up the bottle from where it sat and shook it angrily. "Genie! Are you in there?" He turned it on its head above his bed and waved it up and down. His surprise was quite noteworthy when he saw two small pillows fall out of the opening— no more than an inch in size— followed by Danny, who couldn't have been more than four inches tall. The man couldn't stop his laughter at the look of indignation on his tiny genie's face.

"Is this your idea of a wakeup call?" the small form barked from the mattress, hands gesturing wildly in the air. "You did not even give me the time to exit my bottle right! I will kill you, Master!"

Still chuckling, the older man sat down next to him on the bed, unintentionally causing the mattress to shake and knock the boy's feet out from under him. Vlad reached down and picked him up by the back of his vest in what the teen considered an extremely embarrassing display of power.

"Put me back down," he sulked, arms crossed.

"Can you turn big again?" the man snickered, looking his tiny figure up and down with an amused grin.

"As if I should know!" Danny yelled in response— his voice barely carrying— though he was sure that changing back would be no hassle. "It has never happened before."

"I… apologize," Vlad told him. "Now you need to at least _try _returning to normal." The teen huffed before blinking. All at once the man felt a heavy weight on him and saw a pair of luminous green eyes no more than an inch or two from his face. He pulled his head back and looked down to see the genie sitting in his lap, one leg straddling either side of his own. In his surprise, he fell back onto the mattress with a cry and the other followed him down, laying on top of him.

"Oh, Master," Danny hummed dreamily, nuzzling the man's neck as the fingers of one of his hands danced along the silk pajama top. "Why do we continue to fight it? Please," he purred, rolling onto his back and pulling the other on top of him with surprising strength, "bed me? I have been waiting for quite some time."

Vlad looked down at the figure beneath him, eyes wide and face covered in the first blush he could remember having in ages. Where was the boy coming up with this stuff?

"You— _what_?" he exclaimed, all at once coming to his senses. "No! I will not sleep with a teenage boy."

"I can make myself appear older," he said, closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Vlad took note of the now, what must have been, twenty-seven-year-old genie underneath him. His jaw was more defined, nose with less of a inward slope. Even the muscles of his arms filled the short sleeves of his vest out better. However, he was still with the same white hair and green eyes.

"No. That isn't the problem." The man climbed off of him, shaking his head vigorously. He didn't even make it off the other side of the bed before he was pushed back into the sheets though.

"Then perhaps you would prefer a woman?" Danny asked from above him, his form quickly changing before the man's eyes into a woman of the same increased age. She had the familiar bright hair and eyes, wore the same harem costume, but her hair touched the mattress with its silky tresses. The overall build wasn't so different from the original teenager, though, as he was already quite lean with petite features that carried all the way to a somewhat feminine face. But then, of course, there was an astounding physical difference threatening to almost smother Vlad, as if anyone with a body that slender would honestly have a bust that large.

"The answer is still no," he stated, turning his head to the side before mumbling, almost to himself. "And stop fooling yourself. Your breasts would never be that big."

The weight pulled away from his chest, and when the man looked up, he saw the genie in his normal, teenaged boy form. "I do not know what it is you want, Master," he spoke forlornly.

Vlad cleared his throat, motioning for the other to get off of him completely, before speaking— through a most uncomfortable reluctance— for the boy's consolation, "It's not… necessarily anything you're doing wrong. The bottom line is that I already have someone. I'm engaged to a wonderful woman."

"You are?" Danny asked, looking embarrassed himself as his actions caught up with him. His next words were barely audible. "Master, forgive me. I acted foolish."

"No harm done," the man said, though his eyes did not meet those of his genie. "However, I doubt you really want to be with me. Am I correct, my boy?"

"No, you are… I suppose," the teen muttered, eyes staring into the rumpled blanket for a long and silent moment. "It has simply been a very long time that I have been alone. I… may have chosen you for convenience's sake, Master. Understandably, I… cannot imagine you letting me see other people during my servitude."

"You never know," Vlad replied, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to the other. "Maybe if you listen to me and are on your best behavior you may go out. Then, of course, perhaps one day I'll no longer need you. I suppose then I could see fit to… grant you freedom."

"If that is the case," Danny said, appearing suddenly on the floor, kneeling in front of the man, "I shall try to be very good."

"Very well," he remarked, nodding his head in a pleased fashion. "I am going to get ready for the day and go down to breakfast. Try to stay in your room and not annoy me today." The genie stated his agreement obediently and retreated to his new bedroom.

If he had known that was all he had to say for the boy's submission, Vlad would have said it the day before and saved himself some trouble. After all, it was only an empty speech filled with lies and maybes. He need not say that he had no plans of releasing the boy except with his death. But what was another fifty or so years of waiting around to the immortal genie?

* * *

Sub-theme of this story? The woes, tribulations, and frustrations of a 2016-year-old virgin. Hahaha. Poor Danny. He'd probably jump anybody at this point, including Vlad. So of course he took advantage of being in the man's lap. Pfft.

And Vlad tries to be all nice so Danny will listen to him and not go running away to blue genies. Sneaky Vlad. You're not really nice.


	5. Fast Times at Wisconsin University

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T

Haha. A couple of peoples' ears perked unpleasantly at the mention of Vlad having a fiancée. But that's just me (loosely) following _I Dream of Jeannie_ canon. Because Tony is engaged in the very beginning.

This chapter is boring but obligatory. Sorry. Good news is that I really like the next one.

**Chapter Five: **Fast Times at Wisconsin University

* * *

His chair released a metallic squeak as Vlad leaned further back into it, gazing out his window with a tired indifference. Perhaps he had been too quick in assuming he could resume his normal duties so soon. He was still _quite _weary from his whole marooning experience. The prospect of simply taking the rest of the day off occurred to him readily enough. After all, he had only been at his desk for three hours and was already drained from the small amount of work his assistant actually allowed him to look over.

Interrupting his reverie was a sudden and abrasive knock on his office door that might have made him jump out of his skin, if he were a skittish person who scared so easily. He beckoned the person inside and watched as his bodyguard stomped in.

"Skulker," he greeted with a nod of his head.

"Masters," the man replied, a deep and intimidating rumble of a sound. He didn't speak again until he stood in front of the other's desk. "I wanted to see if you were going out for lunch or if I could settle down outside for awhile."

"No," Vlad answered, turning in his chair. "I think that I am too tired to go out today. Feel free to go and do whatever."

"In that case," Skulker said, scratching his chin and upsetting the green hairs that rested there, "I will be sitting in the front if you need me, cleaning weapons, sharpening knives, and looking overall intimidating."

"That's what I hired you for," the billionaire said with a smile, a very slight one. With a nod of acknowledgment, Skulker left.

Vlad had no sooner settled back into his chair to look out at the sunny day that he heard a voice speaking in his ear. "Who was that?"

Once again, he patted himself on the back for not jumping in surprise. And then, knowing that no one else had entered the door and it could only be one other person, Vlad turned around and saw the suspected genie. The boy was laying above his desk, not on it like last time. No, he was resting in the air, looking like he was simply laying on his stomach on an invisible surface, head propped in a hand and eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer.

"He is my bodyguard," the man responded, pulling the other down from the air so that he laid on the desk— half on, half off. "His name is Skulker, and if I were one to use such words, I suppose I would call him a 'friend' of mine as well. Have you been in here this whole time?"

"Only for a few minutes," Danny answered offhandedly, resting his head in both hands as he propped his two elbows on the desk. "He seems very scary."

"He's supposed to." Vlad dragged a paper out from under the boy to prevent it from being crinkled. "That's his purpose, to scare people off so that they won't attack me… or annoy me."

"And who is the man that was in here before? He had the dark hair with circles of glass in front of his eyes. He carried _so_ many papers. I was waiting for him to drop them," the genie smirked cruelly.

"You said that you've only been here for a few minutes. That was an hour ago," Vlad stated irately. The boy shrugged his shoulders lazily in response, waiting for a reply as to whom the other man had been. "He's my personal assistant. He makes my appointments, sees that I have everything I need, and generally handles business affairs that I'm too busy for."

"And what is his name?" Danny prompted, swinging both his feet in the air in a way that said he was at least halfway levitating off of the floor.

"He doesn't like to tell people," Vlad answered, slightly angered at the other's continued defiance, especially after he had seemed so submissive earlier. "As his employer, I know, of course. To anyone else, he only gives his first and middle initials, G.W., and his last name, which is Riter. If you ever have to refer to him, call him by that."

The teen nodded his head a little before sweeping one leg, and then the other, underneath him to sit on the desk. "Master, I want to apologize again for earlier. I am beginning to see how out of line that was."

"Let's consider it a matter better left forgotten," the man responded, looking away from the boy. It certainly wasn't out of embarrassment though. Because Vlad Masters did _not_ get embarrassed. "However, before we expunge it from our memories, I feel the need to ask whether or not you've ever been involved with someone… in that way." Eyes downcast, Danny shook his head timidly. "So you've only fantasized all of this time?" The teen nodded. "I do have to wonder then why you wouldn't want to be the dominant one… in your first... encounter?"

Danny dropped one leg down between Vlad and the desk, swinging it nonchalantly. When he looked up, he seemed to have eradicated any of the bashfulness he had just displayed and had mustered more than enough nerve to respond. Was it yet another well planned answer he had already prepared, years and years ago? "In the Blue Djinn's unlimited and disgusting humor, he equipped my bottle with… certain books before sealing me away. One was a manual explaining genies' powers and limitations. The rest— nine books whole books— were of a rather perverted nature." Despite his bold expression, the boy seemed to be having trouble saying some parts. "At first, I would not go near them. You have to believe me, Master, I am no… deviant." He actually waited for Vlad's nod that he believed him before continuing. "However, boredom and curiosity are powerful things, and in my time alone I was _lousy _with them."

"Understandable," the man shrugged, wondering just how long the other did wait before opening them.

"Maybe he chose the books specifically for me to arrive at this thought, but, over time, I began to see that the person who is on top does not get to fully enjoy it. They are too worried about pleasing the other person, you know? So, after giving it _a lot _of thought, I have allowed my personal views of myself to alter so that I may wholly enjoy it, without concern. After waiting for so many years, I want for it to be… exhilarating. At least for the first time. After that, I might consider women again."

"You are quite odd, child," Vlad chuckled lightly with amusement. "Though I suppose that— for yourself at least— what you say does make sense. Speaking as someone who has engaged in the act, only with women, I believe that you may be setting yourself up for disappointment. It isn't as great and wonderful as you may have heard, or have since read. And I fear that after all of your time spent fantasizing about it, there cannot possibly exist a person who can live up to your expectations."

"Then it is best that nothing happened this morning," Danny thought aloud. "I would not want my master to feel inadequate."

Vlad sat in shock, body running rampant with outrage. Surely he had just been insulted. But given the pensive gaze on the boy's face as he looked past him and out the window, there had been no condescension in his words. However, the male pride beating through him forced Vlad to say something in his defense. His mouth was open to relay just how wonderful a lover he was when he was interrupted. The teen had a definite— perhaps purposeful?— knack for that.

"This woman of yours, Master, will you tell me about her?"

He deflated instantly. How could Vlad be mad when thinking and speaking of her? "What… would you like to know?" he asked eventually.

"What is her name and how did you meet? What does she look like?" The boy glanced at him, apparently either quite cursed with curiosity or dreamily taken with the idea of love.

"Well, we met during a—"

There was a soft and interrupting knock on the door, quite different from the hammering of Skulker from earlier. Vlad looked at it, knowing who that rapping belonged to, and then back to the boy. He had no sooner made eye contact when the genie disappeared before him. "Come in," he said, looking around and happily finding no trace of Danny.

A second later, in walked his assistant Riter with a surprising amount of papers. Of course, the only surprising thing about the number was that it was zero. It was rare that he came in without more work to pile on. "I've come to pick up the consent form for employee raises at the central office in Madison," he said, stepping up to the desk.

Vlad nodded and looked around to find where he had sat the paper after tearing it out from under his genie. Remembering, he turned in his chair and looked over the short shelf that sat under the window behind his desk. His eyes grew wide when he saw a miniature Danny— the same four inch size from before— sitting on the very paper he needed. Was that where he had been spying on him from before? Right out in the open? Livid at the idea of him getting them caught in such a way, the man jerked the paper out from under the teen and watched with pleasure as the boy went rolling off, almost releasing a little yelp.

His assistant took the paper from him and was on his heels to leave when he stopped for a moment. "I know that you're still tired from the recent events, but I feel it's my obligation to bring up the company's image. I think something should most likely be done publicly about the two pilots who lost their lives." Vlad nodded for him to continue and he did. "Perhaps a small dinner? We can invite the families and some other employees for you to formally issue your condolences. As soon as you feel up to it that is… sir."

The man thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes, that would be for the best. I don't care whom you invite, but wait until my fiancée returns from visiting her family. She's scheduled to come back this weekend, so I suggest you put things in the works for Sunday."

The other agreed with his employer that Sunday would work fine. They made several overall plans together, Riter taking notes on a PDA from his pocket, before he turned and left to finalize everything.

As soon as he had departed, Danny returned to sitting on the desk again, sparing no time. It was as if the thud of the door closing was the sound effect to his appearance. "You are having a party, Master?"

"Yes," Vlad replied with a sigh, "I suppose. Of course, that's if you really want to refer to it that way." He thrummed his long fingers on the wood surface of the desk before addressing the boy. "Regarding your sitting right there in the open… Don't. All someone would have to do is stand at an angle in front of my desk and they would be able to see you behind my chair."

"Then I will need to hide better," the teen responded contemplatively.

"No," the man growled, "what you need is to stay in your room like I told you to do."

"But it is _so boring _there. I have been alone with myself for so many years that I could only take an hour of that. I would much rather see new things and learn more about you," he smiled innocently. "Tell me about your lady."

"You…" Vlad stopped in his preparations to yell at the genie, the same genie who had bowed before him and promised to be on his best behavior just a few hours ago. He realized that he might as well forget any minor rules such as those sticking. The boy was stubborn. But he was interested in her, and that was a subject that Vlad could talk on for hours. "Are you asking me about her in earnest? Or are you trying to avoid my yelling at you?"

"Oh, I am very interested in her, Master. I will be serving her as well when you are married, hopefully soon."

"No, I don't think so. I don't want her knowing about you unless it's absolutely necessary," he responded with a slight shake of his head. Not only was the boy _his _secret alone, but if she needed anything, anything at all, _he_ would be the one to provide it for her, not a magical genie. "And we're not married just yet. We're still in a rather long engagement. I told her that we would get married when I felt I had my companies stable enough to run them without worry of being away from her too often or that they might begin to fall apart and leave me unable to provide for her."

"You should be very careful there," Danny teased, stretching his hands back behind him on the desk and leaning on them. "My father knew a man who ended up losing a woman by making her wait so long in the same situation."

"Thank you for your concern, but I don't need it. I actually told her that everything was finally ready for us to be together," he grinned smugly, exuberant at the concept of marrying her at last. "It's why she's gone actually. When she was a little girl, she made a promise with her mother that, before she was married, she would spend three months apart from her fiancé. And only one of two things would happen. The distance would either make her see that she was not meant for the man, or the exact opposite. Absence makes the heart grow stronger, they say. She's scheduled to come back this weekend and tell me officially if she's fallen out of love or further in with me." He saw that the other was about to open his mouth, so Vlad continued on hurriedly. "And with us it is the latter. She calls me every night— up until my plane crash— and even sends me the occasional gift. In fact, I spent an hour on the phone with her this very morning."

Danny didn't know what a phone was, or why the other had been on it, but he shrugged that off. "If my master says that all is well between you, then I will believe," the teen said, finding such a method of separation odd. "I want to know more. Will you tell me her name and how you met her?"

"Oh, yes," Vlad said, "I didn't even get started before Riter came in. Very well… Her name is Madeline, though I call her 'Maddie'," the older man began with pleasure, a cheery smile on his lips at the thought of her. "I met her in college. We had a physics class together and the teacher paired us up in a group randomly. It didn't take long before we figured out and mastered the experiment, so after that we had time to talk. As it turned out, she was quite the… ghost enthusiast. At the time, I too had a passing curiosity. (I blame it on simply being at that point in my life all young people experience when they contemplate death and its meaning.) After a long enough talk with her, class ended. I asked her to join my roommate and me for lunch— as he was also very fascinated by ghosts— and she agreed."

"Are you still so interested in ghosts?" the teen questioned, laying flat on his back with his knees bent and hands folded on his stomach, watching the other with interest.

"I'm interested in anything that I don't understand," the man responded indifferently. "Ghosts, genies, most things supernatural."

"I am afraid that I may not know much more than you on genies. This is the first time I have ever even been able to experiment with my powers outside of my bottle. There are very few things to be done in there."

"Genies have never been my primary focus before now, so there's no telling who knows more. Ask me anything about ghosts, however," Vlad said smugly, "and I can give you millions of theories, some I've read and many that I have established on my own."

"Then you really are very fascinated by ghosts?" Danny asked again.

"I basically had no choice in college. Maddie was so caught up in thinking about ghosts that I had to pretend I was equally enraptured so that I could have an excuse to spend more time with her. Eventually, the two of us and my roommate, Jack, established a small club with just the three of us. My feelings for her only grew. Unfortunately," he growled low in his throat, "the more time we spent in our little club researching, theorizing, and inventing, I began to notice that Jack was starting to feel for her as well."

"What did you do, Master?" the teen inquired, turning to lay on his side and look at the man.

"I tried to ignore it, even though that proved almost impossible. The worst was on the day that we were set to launch an experiment of ours. It was a portal designed to break into another dimension we had speculated about, an alternate realm that housed the ghosts we had become so intrigued by. We were all excited, but just as we were getting ready to begin, I saw the two of them share a look. They caught each others' eyes in a way that I was not at all happy with. I could read it very well— it saying the exact way I felt for Maddie." Vlad paused for a minute and turned his chair away from the boy somewhat, facing his window. "Completely consumed by rage, I ran out of the building. Being the good person that she is, Maddie followed me until I finally stopped. In a moment of absolute stupidity, fueled and clouded by emotions, I suppose I… confessed to her. I even asked her out on a date. She thought it over for a good minute, but she finally accepted. She forgot about Jack and saw me, who had been right in front of her the whole time… The rest is history. We've been together for eleven years."

"You seem very happy to have her," Danny smiled, pushing himself up until he was sitting and let his legs dangle off the desk. "Thank you for telling me so much of your past, Master. It makes me want to meet her even more."

"I am happy. Though I only told you because, honestly, who else could you possibly tell," he grinned, relating the boy to a journal in his mind at that point. "And… perhaps you may meet her, in time. It certainly depends," the man thought, turning his chair back towards his desk.

"What does she look like?"

"She has short light, sandy hair, a mix between brown and red, with the most beautiful and deep amethyst eyes. And then… Actually, wait a moment," Vlad said before reaching for one of the drawers of his desk. "I have a picture of her here. I had to take it down shortly after she left, though, because it made me miss her far too much." With pleased smile, he looked the picture over in his hand before giving it to the teen.

Danny took the picture and pondered only for a moment on such wonderful quality in such a small painting— knowing nothing of photography— before his eyes widened horribly, taking in the image of the woman smiling back at him. He stared at it for what must have been a full minute before Vlad felt the need to finally ask what was wrong. However, he had no sooner began to do so when the teen closed his green eyes in a quick blink, disappearing. The only sign that he had even been sitting there was the picture that held itself in midair for a brief second before falling towards the desk, threatening to shatter the glass if Vlad hadn't caught it.

"How odd," he said aloud, wondering what could have possibly caused such a reaction.

* * *

omg. Wha happened?

Yes, by the way, I did change the ages of the college trio. I know that they graduated twenty years ago come series time, not ten. I actually have a reason for this, to be disclosed later. You'll just have to wait to find out. So yeah, they're all about thirty-two here.

Nom nom nom. Ghost Writer. Haha. I was happily surprised when I took the 'W' off of the word and saw that 'Riter' actually looks like a name. But what could the 'G.W.' stand for…? Oh, well of course I know. Hehehe.

Every time I write that Danny blinks, I blink.


	6. I Want to Go to the Ball!

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T

You know you like the chapter title. It's okay to laugh. I also like this chapter for some reason. Maybe it's the interaction. I dunno…

**Chapter Six: **I Want to Go to the Ball!

* * *

After another hour— and five failed attempts at focusing on an important contract— Vlad gave up on his work for the day, addressing it as useless to even try. Though loathe to admit it, he really was exhausted. So he met with his assistant, ate a quick luncheon in the dining room, and retreated back upstairs to his room.

As frustrated as he did feel towards himself for 'slacking off', there was no denying that he was somewhat eager to find his genie and ask what the problem had been to make the boy disappear from his office so fast.

He opened and closed the door to his room, admitting himself inside, before strolling over and hanging his suit jacket over one of the chairs, feeling in the mood for relaxation that an extra layer could not allow. No sooner had he turned around that his next destination presented itself, coming right to him.

"Master," he said, stepping forward with a purpose but ducking his head in hesitation. "Master, I would like to attend your party."

"It isn't a party," Vlad sighed, resting a hand on the edge of the chair. "It's more like a wake for the pilots who died. Calling it a party implies that it will be a happy festivity. This is the exact opposite. I'm only throwing it out of obligation." He sat down in the fabric of the armchair in the most elegant 'plop' one could imagine, his fatigue quite overpowering. His blue eyes closed as he ran a hand over them, and when they opened again, he saw the boy still standing there, looking expectant. Was he actually waiting for his consent that he could attend? "Why on Earth would I let you come? You'd hardly even know how to conduct yourself around people without sticking out horribly. Not to mention that every time I tell you to do something, you disobey. Who's to say that you wouldn't mess this up for me, on purpose? No, it's too big of a risk."

"That is mean, _Vlad_," Danny huffed, stomping his foot.

"Hey," the man objected, looking the other over crossly. "What happened to 'master'?"

"That is a term of respect, and you do not deserve it. You are a terrible master."

"What would you know of masters?" Vlad questioned mockingly, folding his arms with a smirk. "I'm the first one you've had. Besides, all you've done is prove my point. You're a petulant child who throws a fit when you don't get what you want. You cannot come. I won't have you mucking this up. I have an image to keep." He sat in his chair for a moment before passively saying, "Also I _wish _for you to continue calling me master."

"Of course, Master. Anything you say, Master. Is there something else you might want in the meantime, _Master_. Perhaps a nice, cool drink, Mast-"

"Stop that," he growled at the teen's attempt to get on his nerves. Vlad looked away from where the other stood fuming on his left, turning his head only to see Danny standing on his right instantly.

"How may I convince you to let me come?" he asked dropping to sit on his knees next to the man. "I will be on my best behavior."

"You used that one this morning," Vlad retorted, swinging one of his legs over the other while his fingers thrummed along the arms they crossed. "And that lasted for what? An hour?"

"I will make it last all night if you allow me to attend," Danny blinked innocently. He rested his hands on the armrest of the chair, but the man swatted them off.

"I hardly believe that." He sat in silence for several long moments, quieting the genie every time he tried to speak. How bad could it go if he were to allow him to be there? There would be enough people that he might go unnoticed. And then if things did get out of hand, he could always have the boy 'thrown out'. But what if he used his powers and people began to notice weird things going on? Not to mention his appearance. "No," he finally said. "It couldn't work. Just look at yourself. Your eyes practically _glow_ they're so unnaturally green. Not to mention your hair, which is disturbingly white by anyone's standards. How could it not attract people? They'd be all over you, and then you wouldn't be just some figure in the background."

"I can fix that," the teen smiled, knocking away Vlad's pathetic excuse. He blinked his eyes. The man watched and saw that when they opened again, they were a bright and marvelous sky blue. He then noticed a motion that began in the boy's hair, starting at the roots. A cascade of dark color fell down and enveloped each strand, turning them from pure white to a deep raven black. "Do you like it?" he asked with a bright smile, standing up and looking in the mirror that hung above the fireplace and admiring the reflection. The man only stared. "This is what I used to look like, long ago… I do not remember much about the transformation into my current self, aside from the crippling pain of my body being rebuilt. I do know that it is what must have changed how I appeared though. Before then I looked like this."

Vlad nodded his head, looking to the other again before saying, "Things would be much easier on me if you looked like this all of the time, less worry about you being spotted. Honestly, if you don't want to have your white hair constantly, why not simply keep this form? It seems to make you much happier, my boy."

"It does," Danny said, running his fingers through the black hair and watching them fall back into place in the mirror's reflection. "But it is only an illusion, Master. Much like the forms I pulled this morning, being a woman and such. I would like nothing better than to look at least a _few _years older than I do right now, but it would not be real. This morning I was not a teenage boy, but I felt like I always do. I even looked like a girl for a minute, but I still was not one... What I mean is that I would not get pregnant or anything if we were to…" He trailed off and Vlad was not entirely sure that the boy wasn't trying to bring the subject up again. Honestly though, if he hadn't given in earlier when the other had literally been all over him, why would he give in now? The teen cleared his throat awkwardly. "Not to mention that, though slight, it is a drain on my powers. I could keep a different shape for three days maybe before it exhausted me."

"How interesting," Vlad thought aloud, the researching mind in him finding it all very fascinating. "But you still cannot come this weekend."

"What?" Danny shouted, turning around and staring at him incredulously. "Why not?"

"Amongst other reasons, I would have to say that it's because there's something you're not telling me," he replied with a knowing grin. "Like perhaps _why _exactly you are so adamant about attending."

"What are you talking about?" the boy retorted uneasily, dropping his eyes from the gaze the man had fixed him with. "Why would I not want to be around people? I miss people, Master. Not that you are not wonderful yourself," he flattered, kneeling in front of the chair.

After a long moment's deliberation, Vlad finally nodded his head. "Very well, you may attend," he said, having his own secret agenda behind his 'giving in'. He would find out the boy's true motive for being so unwavering on the subject. Danny's face broke into a smile, and the man could tell that he was about to start yammering excitedly and so interrupted him. "There are conditions to this, you understand."

"Name them, Master," he grinned. "I will follow obediently."

"For starters, you will, of course, keep this form all night long," he began. "Next— what should go without saying— you will not use any magic. I mean this. No magic _at all_, save for altering your appearance. Also, you will not speak to _anyone _unless they speak to you first." The boy seemed to become quite crestfallen at that demand. "If they do speak, I expect you to have good and inconspicuous answers. And lastly, you will dress as I say for the event."

"As if it were my choice to wear this to begin with," he replied, picking at the short, black vest he wore. "The Blue Djinn made me. I only wear it now because by the time I had figured my powers out enough to change, I had already become so accustomed to it."

"Good, good," Vlad said, stroking his neatly trimmed facial hair. "And you will obey all of my demands?" The boy bobbed his head up and down enthusiastically. "All right then. Just don't make me regret this." That time he shook his head. "Now, I've taken off from my duties for the rest of the day. I want nothing more than to relax here and perhaps catch up on some reading. Do what you want as long as it isn't loud or irritating."

He got up from his chair and walked to his bed, opening the nightstand and grabbing a book out of it. There was a short-lived feeling of shame as he noticed the thin jacket of dust on the cover. How long had it been since he had last taken the time to sit down with the book?

When he turned around, he almost fell back in surprise to see the teen right behind him. "Master, will you not make a wish? I feel like these powers I have are being wasted."

"Then they shall be wasted for now," he said, pushing past the other. He had a feeling that he was once again followed and noticed that there was not the slightest sound of the boy's pattering feet. He moved like a soundless ghost. "Call me overly cautious if you will, but I don't want to rush into any wishes without thinking them through first. If not because of any trouble I might get into with the law, then because I worry over how you might twist my words."

"Have it your way then," the boy sighed.

—

Vlad sat reading quietly for some time. It became increasingly obvious that he was unable to concentrate though. It was not because the boy was distracting, quite the opposite. As those old movies said, it was _too _quiet. After he found himself unable to focus at all on his current page, he put his book down with more than a little trepidation.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, seeing a pair of once more green eyes staring straight at him from behind the cover. In his surprise he even dropped the book, its pages fluttering down until it rested on the floor next to where the boy sat staring at him. "What are you doing?"

"I was watching you read, Master," Danny answered plainly, somewhat confused as to how that wasn't obvious. He picked the book up and flipped through the pages several times, thoroughly losing Vlad's place. "Though there are no real words here."

"It's in English," the man scoffed, snatching the book out of the other's hands. "I thought my wish for you to understand the language might have covered reading it as well." The flapping sound of paper ran under his thumb as he fanned through the numerous pages, trying to find where he had been.

"You only wished for me to speak it, not read words," the teen pointed out with a shrug. "Though with a wish, you could remedy that."

Vlad had his mouth open to do so before he stopped. "No, I don't think so, not yet anyway. Currently there's no reason to. And for all I know, you'd go through my personal documents out of boredom."

"But I _am_ bored!" Danny sulked angrily. "And you are mean for not allowing me the simple ability to read."

"I'm sure if you think of something to do, it'll come to you," Vlad mumbled, uninterested. "Just don't leave your— or my— room. And don't watch me read. It's unsettling."

The genie sat on the floor for what must have been twenty minutes, making a point not to look at the man, as had been requested. Eventually he admitted, "I do not know what to do."

Sighing, Vlad closed his book, a finger placed in the page he was on. "Why don't you watch television or something? Children your age love that sort of mind numbing entertainment."

"Teh-rah-vee-zion?" Danny repeated curiously, a horrible mangling of the word. It didn't go unnoticed by the man that it also seemed to carry a bit of a Persian accent. It was enough to make him wonder if perhaps his wish for the other to speak English had taught him all of the words or if it merely translated what he said and heard. If the latter was true, it would make sense that any word not in his primary vocabulary would, of course, come out sounding like he was repeating it in his original idiom and accent. Very interesting indeed.

"Just call it 'T.V.'," the man amended with a slight shake of his head. "It's a box with moving pictures in it. Imagine watching a play on demand in the comfort of your own home."

The teen certainly seemed intrigued enough, given the excitement flashing in his eyes. "How do we watch it?"

"Normally," Vlad said, giving up and placing the bookmark between the pages, "I would go down to the den, but I'm not taking you there with me. Therefore, as averse as I am to the thought of televisions in the bedroom, I wish that I had one right there." He pointed above the fireplace where the long mirror was currently hanging.

The eager genie nodded his head and stood up, crossing one arm over the other. He took a deep breath and then did nothing. Slowly he deflated as he stared dejectedly at the wall. Dropping his arms, he turned around to look at Vlad. "I do not know what a T.V. looks like…"

The man ran a tired hand down his face, letting out a long sigh. "Of course. Let's see," he trailed off. Pulling his suit jacket off of the chair he was sitting in, he went through one of the pockets before retrieving his phone. It was brand new— having replaced the one he had lost in his little swim to the island— and internet capable. After a moment of punching in letters and browsing, he pulled up a picture for the boy, a nice and expensive flat screen. "This, right there."

Readying himself again, Danny crossed his arms and that time blinked, the same model appearing on the wall. If anything though, he had actually created it bigger than in the original picture. The new one exceeded even the length of the fireplace. "Now what?" he asked.

Vlad tapped the picture still on his phone, pointing out the remote control that had been forgotten. With an embarrassed blink from the teen, it appeared in his hand. "Now you sit down," he motioned to the chair next to him. "And we will partake in the device ruining intelligence and basic human interaction." The teen shrugged off his words and sat down as instructed, crossing his legs in front of him on the cushion.

The power button on the remote was pressed and Danny watched the expansive screen light up and turn to pictures. His eyes widened in intrigue as Vlad channel surfed and told him to say when he saw something he liked and he would leave it there. But what that it landed on wasn't amazing to the teen? Colors, black and white, cartoons, a man standing in front of a map and pointing at little clouds, it was all fascinating.

After a second cycle through _all _of the channels— Vlad's patience thinning— Danny finally stopped him. "Look at that one, Master. They are talking about ghosts."

The man snorted inelegantly. "Yes, I know. But don't put any stock in anything they say. It's only a bunch of imbeciles walking around old buildings in the dark and shouting like children." Regardless, he left it there, if for no other reason than to mock the show.

And mock it he did, rambling on and on about the inaccuracies, the shaking camera that could make a person sick, and the general stupidity. He would have continued until the very end if the boy hadn't asked him to be quiet. In retaliation, he simply threw the remote at Danny and picked his book up with a warning not to adjust the volume. He then went and sat in the wingchair at his desk.

When he left several hours later to go down for dinner, the other was still gazing at the television, positively taken by it. Humorously enough, all he was watching was the weather. Although, it did make sense that someone from such a long ago time in history would be interested by the ability to predict weather conditions.

An hour later he returned after having his meal and a discussion with Riter. By then it was broadcasting cartoons, and Vlad had to wonder if the boy was actually comprehending the jokes that he was laughing at. Probably not considering their contemporary nature. But he laughed anyway.

It wasn't until Vlad actually finished his book that he took a look at his watch and noticed that it was past midnight. That would certainly explain why his eyes were burning so badly. With a yawn, he sat the book down on the desk, ready to take it back to the library in the morning. He then went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and changed into his pajamas.

Now the television was tuned to an old sitcom. He noticed that Danny was making a point to laugh every time the studio audience did, and that became annoying _very_ quickly. Walking across the room, Vlad reached to the side of the screen and manually turned it off. "Bed," he said simply.

Defiantly, the teen found the power button and turned it back on. "No, I want to watch more T.V., Fruitloop."

"Where did you-?" the man gaped, glaring at the boy.

"Someone said it on the box."

Vlad growled under his breath, doing his best not to yell at the other. "I am 'Master'," he reiterated, turning the screen off once more. "And I realize that you're quite taken with the idea of television. In fact, I'll pretend that I actually see the importance of you watching it, given all of the culture you have to catch up on. But when I go to sleep, it goes off." He saw his little insolent genie raise the remote again and snatched it out of his hand. "Put one in your room for all I care. But I leave for my main office in Madison at seven in the morning, and you're coming with me. I won't have you running around my house. Stay up at your own risk." Danny pushed his words off with a huff, stomping from the room and muttering unpleasant things under his breath.

The man settled into his bed, neck welcoming the pillow and his eyes grateful to be closed. He had almost drifted off into a much needed sleep when he heard the whirring of the television and its accompanying voices. Springing up in bed, ready to have the justification to shout at the boy, he saw that the screen was off and the room was still dark. Looking around curiously, he noticed a faint blue glow coming out from the top of the genie's bottle. More subdued light was shining out from the sides that were not painted, being only a layer of thick glass.

"What are you doing?" he grumbled, leaning over and looking into the bottle's opening.

"I am watching T.V. in my room," a quiet voice replied, and when Vlad was finally able to focus, he saw the little miniature genie watching a little miniature television that sat on the opposite side of the circular couch running around the inside of the bottle.

Vlad only groaned in reply, falling back onto his mattress from exhaustion, most of which was caused by the boy. He took in a long breath through his nose and released it from his mouth in a groan. For tonight only he would compromise on this. Picking the bottle up— ignoring the faint hollering he heard inside as he shook it a little more than necessary— he walked across the room and placed it on his desk. Returning to his bed, he was quite happy to hear that the small sound didn't carry.

* * *

Danny's so silly. Vlad finally gives in to let him go to the "party" and he shows his thanks by immediately and indirectly disobeying him. Silly genie.

Sadly, this is all that I have written at this time. I'm going to try to get right on it, but understand that my job leaves me physically drained every day but on weekends. And sometimes I have things to do on the weekends. Now, I want this written as badly as you guys might (I assume you like it…) so know that hounding me on the subject will do nothing. It might actually be counterproductive because I don't like people telling me what to do. So… yeah. Sorry.


	7. Breathe Deep and Count to Ten

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T

I didn't forget! See, if I hadn't put this story online, I seriously would have just let it die (like so many others). However, I'm still getting a couple of favs and watches a week, so… I know somebody somewhere actually would like me to go on. Not that I don't want to finish it for myself as well. I'm just lazy. Haha.

**Chapter Seven:** Breathe Deep and Count to Ten

* * *

Vlad awoke slowly with deep breaths and a flexing of his toes. He felt surprisingly rested, which was indeed something rare when he woke up before his alarm. His jaw popped as he released a powerful yawn and brought his hand up to rub at his eyes. Only, the covers came with his hand, which was odd. Opening his eyes, he saw that his blanket was actually wrapped around his arm like a sleeve. Of course, to be more accurate, it was not his blanket. This seemed more like a cheap, polyester… thing.

"What in the world…?"

Sitting up, he saw that his comforter was indeed gone and he had been cloaked in a… a backwards bathrobe.

He massaged his fingertips over his eyes relaxingly and counted to ten.

"Oh, genie?" he beckoned.

"Yes, Master?" Vlad wasn't even surprised when he felt the boy instantly on his bed, voice going off right in his ear.

"Where is my blanket?" he asked, turning his head to look at the teen. But then, it was that action that allowed him to see further into his bedroom. Boxes. There were boxes everywhere. Some had pictures on them, most were simple, unmarked cardboard. Naturally of course, there were also the relatives of the boxed items family: packing peanuts, styrofoam, bubble wrap, crumpled up newspaper. He could hardly see his floor at all.

And then who could forget the shipped items themselves? Everywhere there were all matters of assorted… junk. "What… is all of this?" Truth be told, he should have received some sort of award for keeping himself even that composed.

"Master, there is this amazing T.V. channel," Danny rambled excitedly, smoothing out the humps in Vlad's 'blanket'. "It has the latest and best things ever and available only from them. Everything I saw made me think of you. But they were only offered for a limited time. I did not want to wake you to have you make a wish, but I did not want you to miss out on the great deals either. So I brought everything here for you. Feel free to thank me now or after you have marveled over your gifts."

And so Vlad counted to ten. When that didn't help, he counted to twenty.

"Listen… _Danny_," he began. It wasn't that he couldn't dismiss the gifts easily. He received things from people often, and there was always an angle. The question was, what was the boy's? He already had permission to attend the 'party'. "Just… get rid of it, all right? I can't even walk on the floor."

"Rid of it? But I got it all for you. Do you have any idea how rare some of these things are? They are one of a kind," Danny explained, obviously confused by the man's lack of enthusiasm.

"I'd hate to break this to you, my boy, but they're not rare. There's nothing special about any of it. I can almost assure you that every last bit of it is useless junk."

"It is not!" the boy threw back, jumping off the bed. There was a rustle of various things being kicked around as he stomped to the nightstand. "Look at this. It is amazing. It tells time in precise numbers, to the minute, and even projects it onto the ceiling. Hardly useless."

"Yes, I already have a clock, thank you," Vlad sighed, gesturing next to the boy. Only… the thing about his alarm clock was that it wasn't lit up. It was darkened and— if the lonesome plug by the genie's foot was any indication— not hooked up to its power source. "What did you do?" he shouted angrily, tearing open the drawer of the nightstand for his watch. Wonderful, he was half-an-hour late.

"I was just trying to figure out how it worked so I could make this one tell time, too," Danny shot back— equally mad, but with none of the reason.

"You imbecile! I had an alarm set to wake me up," the man growled, trying to free himself from the stupid blanket with sleeves. It was a surprisingly hard thing to do and he heard threads ripping.

"How was I supposed to know a thing like that?" he yelled, following Vlad through the maze of boxes, cheap jewelry, and color printers.

"You're supposed to do what I tell you. And I did not tell you to touch anything of mine other than what I allow." The man kicked several boxes and papers away out of rage. When one didn't move— perhaps causing more than a little bit of pain in his toe— he picked it up and shoved it in the genie's arms. "I'm taking a shower now so I won't be even more late for work. Enjoy your toaster, and try not to touch anymore of my things."

It wasn't but a second after he had shut the door from bedroom to private hall, that Vlad heard the boy yell back, "It is not a toaster. It is a revolutionary oven. And you cannot tell me what to do!" The last particular exclamation was followed by the sound of something— a heavy and boxed something— hitting the door with a loud, scraping sound.

"My door had better be in the exact same condition I last saw it in when I get out," the man retorted arrogantly as he began unbuttoning his pajama top.

—

It wasn't exactly the _biggest _surprise in the world when he opened the bathroom door to see that the one leading to his bedroom was gone. Just gone, completely gone, hinges and all. Honestly, he might call it relief that it was _just_ the door being gone. He had taken his fastest shower since college. Not only because he was late, but because he had no idea what the boy would do in his absence and with a temper bubbling.

"Where's the door?" he asked with a sigh, arranging the towel around his neck to keep water from getting on his dress shirt.

The genie was sitting on his bed— _his bed_— trying on the cheap, costume jewelry and looking at himself in a floating mirror. Soundlessly, he pointed to the corner, not taking his eyes off of his reflection. "I fixed the scratched paint," he said plainly.

"Yes, but you removed it from the doorway," Vlad growled. He counted to five, because he really didn't have time for a higher number and that one would just have to do. "Forget it. We'll deal with it later. Just get in your bottle while I finish getting ready."

"Why should I?" the boy asked flatly, rolling his head along his neck in a lazy fashion to stare at the other.

"Because I have to go to work, and, as I said last night, I'm taking you with me." Again he sauntered off into his hallway to pick a suit for the day. "I'd come home and there'd be no doors anywhere," he mumbled to himself.

"I can put it back, you know." Naturally, the teen had followed him, picking at his suits and even pulling one off the hanger. "Just tell me you are sorry for getting angry at me. And after I had done something nice for you."

"Not a chance," Vlad replied, taking his suit jacket from the other. "I only apologize when I don't mean it. But right now, I don't even feel like mustering up that much of an effort." He made a mental note to tell Riter to find him a contractor for re-installing the door later.

The man could actually hear Danny growling, and he saw how his little fists were balled up tight. After a second, he said, "Well, let me help you get dressed so that you will not be even more late." And Vlad supposed that it was a fine show of his reflexes when compared to a magical genie that he couldn't even get a word of dissent out before the other had folded his arms and blinked his eyes. "You look dashing, Master." It was the smile— the frightening, sly smile— that made the man _not_ want to look in the mirror.

But look he did. "This… this is…" There were no words. However, if words _were_ to be used, they would describe how he looked like some Persian sultan. Black and white robes covered every inch of skin but his hands and face. A thick belt of the same cloth clung to his middle and actually covered most of his abdomen with its accents of striped patterns and interwoven golden threads. Around his shoulders hung a thick cape, colored a deep blood red. "I look ridiculous, is how I look," he scoffed. "Now get out of here while I really get dressed."

"Have it your way," the boy shrugged, walking languidly back to the bedroom. He had no sooner sat upon the bed with a smirk that he heard Vlad yell aloud.

"What did you do?" he demanded, stomping into the room. When the genie looked at him quizzically, he added, "I can't get them off." The clothes didn't budge, which was quite an odd sensation. It wasn't like they were glued to his skin. They didn't stick to him or anything of the sort. The thing was that all of it— each layer— simply felt too heavy to pick up. Of course, he knew that wasn't really it, or he would be floored by the weight of it all. He just seemed to lack the strength to move them. "Take them off. Take them off _now_." And, truth be told, he was going to have to find a better anger management system than counting numbers.

"But you look good," Danny said, standing to adjust the clothes here and there, as if they weighed nothing to him, and wasn't that just the taunting thing to do?

"You can't play me like this," Vlad argued, swatting the other's hands away. "You can't twist things around when I don't even make a wish."

"If you would like to read the genie manual sometime, you will find that I can use my powers in extra ways however I want, especially if I think it helps my master."

And there Vlad was, staring down a two-millennium-old genie who had the rebellious face of a teenager. Suddenly, he was almost grateful he had been shoved into that acting class in high school. "You're right," he sighed with a light chuckle. "I shouldn't have acted so horribly to all the gifts. I'm sure you can understand the overwhelming sight of them all, am I right, my boy?" And then to bring it home, the man ran a tender hand over the boy's shoulder, thumbing the soft, black vest. "But I am sorry. When we get home, you can show me everything you got."

"Aww, Master," he smiled before wrapping arms around him in a hug. Of course, right after that, he heard a spiteful little voice mutter into his chest, "As far as fake apologies go, I suppose that was enough to get me to allow you out of those clothes." He pulled away, and with a clever little wink from him, Vlad felt a tingle in the robes where they touched him.

"Finally," he muttered, shucking the cape and belt as he walked back to his closet.

"And Master?" Danny threw at him, jumping onto the bed. "You could have simply wished them off."

Vlad released a vicious sounding sigh, muttered several indecent things under his breath, and changed.

—

The next few hours went _relatively _smoothly, and there was no one as surprised by that fact as Vlad. He'd put the boy in his bottle with his little television, and not a peep had been heard from him until they were about ten minutes from his office. Then, he supposed, the quiet had got to be too much. Vlad had barely had enough time to raise the panel between the back of the limousine and the driver when he saw the dooming appearance of that green smoke coming up.

"Sit and be quiet," he had said as soon as the genie materialized onto one of the leather seats. "You're still on thin ice." And to his great amazement, the boy had done just that. Of course, maybe that was because he was too in awe by the sight of so many people bustling around such tall buildings. It could really send anyone unaccustomed to it quiet.

And so after that short little fiasco, things went along so nicely that Vlad was borderline concerned. Riter had made the morning's mountain of paperwork small, for starters. He'd had a nice phone conversation with Maddie. She would be coming in later than expected, not even arriving until late Sunday morning, but that was of little consequence. After three months, what were a few more hours? Then his secretary had brought him the most delicious new coffee blend at the precise moment he started to actually need the caffeine. Honestly, for a workday it was all going pleasantly.

Luckily, the world righted itself shortly after that, which was good. For a moment Vlad was becoming rather uneasy.

"Genie," he called, taking a sip of coffee and tapping the rim of the bottle where it sat on his desk, presenting itself as some odd knickknack. When the boy didn't show himself Vlad rolled his eyes, sighed, and resorted to using his name. "Danny? Get out here this instant. I have a job for you." Still no smoke.

He heard the door opening then and was glad for a moment that the other was ignoring him. A teenage boy dressed in a harem outfit in his office would be difficult to explain. But, as it turned out, Danny thought ahead and made everything easy on him. Because it wasn't a stranger who walked in the door, but the boy himself. And he wasn't even dressed in his usual garb. No, he was wearing a business suit. How perfect, in the sense that, no, it wasn't perfect— not even okay— at all.

"What are you doing?" Vlad growled at him, jumping up and slamming the door shut. It wasn't until he was out from behind his desk that he noticed the boy wore a skirt with his suit jacket, not pants. "And what are you _wearing_?"

"Assistant clothes," the boy answered simply, walking the length of the room and placing a small stack of papers on Vlad's desk. "Like the girl that came in earlier. I am replacing her."

"No," the man answered, not taking the time to count his anger out and just slipping the numbers between his words. Maybe it would have somewhat the same effect. Maybe. "You're not. I don't know why you think you have to, or what you—"

"Master, I did not like the way she was flirting with you. You are spoken for. How dare she?" Danny sat on the desk and folded his legs in a quite inelegant way, a manner which no one wearing a skirt should adapt.

"You were trying to make me sleep with you!" Vlad objected loudly, quieting himself when he realized just how loud. "It doesn't matter though. Doesn't matter at all." He ran a hand along his hair and managed to count to six before he gave up and had to speak again. "She was not flirting with me either. I pay her to act nice, so she acts nice. That's all."

"Well, if you are sure of that fact," Danny trailed off, obviously not convinced of it himself.

"I am!" the man said, walking towards the desk and then away again, unconsciously beginning to pace. "And change out of those clothes. Or at least put your legs down!" When he stepped back towards the boy, he knocked his feet off of the desk.

"Coffee, Master?" the genie asked, picking up the nearly empty mug and blinking to refill it again.

Vlad took the offered beverage and sat it back down on the desktop. "If I need more coffee, I'll let my actual secretary get it."

"Hmm? Oh, she left, went home," Danny uttered uninterestedly, picking up his bottle and shooing off stray particles of nonexistent dust.

"Don't be ridiculous. The girl's a professional. She wouldn't…" Vlad paused and turned slowly to face the boy. "What did you do?"

"I told you. She went home… After I sent her there." He mumbled the last part quietly.

"Well, bring her back. Now!" The boy rolled his eyes in exasperation but complied. Vlad shuffled towards the door and opened it slowly, content to see his secretary sitting at her desk, albeit looking rather confused. "Can you erase her memory of having been home?" he asked. Danny looked up at the ceiling in thought for a moment before deciding, yes, he could and nodding his head. "Good. Do that then. And stop taking it upon yourself to do things."

Danny sighed but did as he was told, blinking his regular clothing back on at the same time. "You said you had a job for me, Master?" he asked, pretending the past several minutes hadn't happened.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do." Once Vlad was sure the girl outside no longer looked hopelessly lost, he closed the door and strode back over to his desk. When he sat down, he opened up one of the desk drawers and pulled out a thin folder. "A competitor," he said, opening the file and pointing at a picture of a man. "I want you to take him out."

"Out where?" the boy asked, studying the picture of the angry looking man who gave off the appearance like he would sooner run a homeless person over with a car than give them a cent.

"No, get rid of him," the man reiterated, not wanting to have to explain further.

Danny thought for a minute before the meaning occurred to him. "Oh. _Ohh_." For a flash second, a small cocktail of emotions seemed to stir in his green eyes ranging from, resentment to sorrow to utter disappointment. He pulled it altogether quick enough though and answered, "I cannot do that," plainly.

"What kind of powers are those when you can't even… _kill _someone?" Vlad looked rather skeptical, as if he were more than certain the boy was simply lying to him.

"There are limits to my powers, Master. Certain things I simply cannot do. But I am sure you will figure them all out in time." He finished his words with a little tap of his finger to Vlad's nose.

"Or you could tell them all to me now," he responded, rubbing his nose. He saw the sly shake of the boy's head and realized it wouldn't even be worth the wish to make him tell right at that moment. "Fine then. If I can't kill him, what can I do? He's the last thing standing between me and a very important deal I've been trying to close for months. If I can get this out of the way, my workload will slow down considerably."

"You could always try asking nicely?" Danny asked, smiling humorously. When the man met him with a look of serious disproval, he pulled himself together. "Be honest, Master. You do not want to kill him, do you? It sounds too cruel. You are not cruel, are you?" Actually, yes, he was. But he did have to admit, killing did seem a bit extreme. It had just looked like a good solution though, a way to pull the ever constant thorn in his side that man had become.

"Fine then. If you can't kill, can you at least injure?" Once again, the boy looked disappointed, but nodded his head. "Good. In that case, I want him to have an accident, just a small one and nothing life threatening. I will play inside your rules. I would, however, like for him to end up in a coma. Make it last for, oh, two months. That will be just enough time for me to get this all squared away. Their interim CEO won't have the power to vote against me."

Danny ran a hand through his white hair and sighed. He waited and waited, perhaps anticipating the second when the man would tell him he was kidding. "Do you honestly wish it?"

"Yes, I do," Vlad answered.

"What if I say I do not want to?" he asked, running a hand across his mouth distractedly and keeping it placed under his chin for a rest.

"Can you resist something if I wish it?" the man countered, to which the other shook his head slowly.

"Please do not?" Danny's eyes seemed to double in size with their distress.

Dash the boy's feelings. He was there to serve Vlad. "I _wish_ this man here," he tapped on the photograph, "to be involved in an accident."

Every centimeter of movement was a long moment in reluctance. The boy pulled his arms mechanically together around his chest and blinked his eyes. He looked rather pitiful when he said, "It is set in motion. Give it a little time, though. It has to look natural."

"Of course," the man smiled, positively giddy— if 'giddy' were a word he would use to describe himself.

"Is that all… Master?" Danny asked, looking quite a bit pale and troubled. Vlad didn't want to admit it, aloud or even mentally, but he found himself feeling a slight bit guilty in the aftermath of the fact for having made the boy do that. It was odd. Danny shouldn't have felt so remorseful over what had been done. He was constantly doing things to Vlad, so he wasn't such a goody-goody innocent. And besides, the man, his competitor, would be perfectly back to normal in a couple of months. What was there to worry about?

"Yes, that will be all for now," he affirmed, patting the boy's knee where it still sat on his desktop. It felt odd displaying affection like that, but not as odd as the consolation he tried to offer next. "Danny," he said, grabbing the boy's attention and bringing the green eyes to look at him, "I did this. Not you. Remember that."

"Yes, Master," the genie replied melancholically. "I think I will go back to my bottle now." And without another word said, his body disappeared into its little home.

"Have it your way," Vlad muttered, returning to his work. And for the rest of the day, he heard not a word spoken nor a television buzzing from within.

* * *

I make myself sad.

Don't worry though, self. Danny will bounce back. Young men are extremely springy.

What's this you say? Too out of character? Danny would never harm someone without provocation? Shhhhhhh. I am your metaphorical driver on this ride. Trust me.


	8. Lazy Afternoons

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T

Update! At last! And it's the longest chapter yet! Yay!

Has it really been more than a year? Waiting for motivation is such a pain. Ugh. But even if it takes me _years_, I really want to finish this fic. Mostly because I've never finished anything this long, but also because some of the notes I have for future plot points are so GOOD. And silly. I can't _not_ finish.

I was rereading some past chapters for inspiration, and… Oh, goodness. How embarrassing. Had to go back and edit. A lot.

**Chapter Eight:** Lazy Afternoons

* * *

Vlad was genuinely surprised when he arrived home that evening to find his room completely deserted of all boxes and box related materials. Even his victimized door had been restored to its place in the frame, hinges and all attached. He gave it a little swing back and forth to test it.

Maybe the boy was learning his place, he supposed. Really though, he was too tired to think of any other theory. He had ended up spending quite a late night at work, only going out to have dinner with Riter and Skulker before returning right back to the office. His back ached from bending over his desk, his eyes burned from reading, and his body felt like lead from the exhaustion of it all. It was grueling, but companies didn't just oversee, merge, and expand themselves all on their own. The good news was that the next day was Saturday, and as head of the company, he allowed himself to observe weekends.

He doffed his suit jacket and dropped it in the floor. Immediately, he thought better of himself than to let such an expensive suit garner a nice collection of wrinkles on the carpet, and bent down to pick it up.

"Ahh!" he cried, affixing a hand to his back following the feel of an unpleasant pop. Vlad tried to stand back up, but found the sting rather unbearable. "I suppose I need to slow down some, for health's sake," he reasoned with himself through gritted teeth. He stood doubled over in the middle of the room for a minute before hobbling over to his bed and slowly lying down.

"Ge…" He paused. Did he really want to bother the boy over something so trivial, especially with him being so quiet and good? Vlad pulled his legs over onto the bed and felt a stab of pain. Ow, yes. He did. "Ge— Danny," he amended, switching to the other's name halfway through, "could you come out here please?"

Vlad didn't see any smoke, but all at once there was a pair of green eyes looking down at him. The white hair fell around the boy's face, obeying the laws of gravity that he so blatantly defied as he hovered above him. "Yes?"

"I've hurt my back. You wouldn't know anything about fixing that, would you?" How pathetic he felt in that moment, asking a little boy for help.

"No, Master. But I guess I could try." He blinked his eyes, and Vlad yelped in surprise when he felt himself being lifted off of the bed, floating just above it.

He got over the shock of it quickly enough and instead began to mentally document the sensation. It was odd, not touching anything but air. He imagined relating it to falling, but without any of the fear or wind resistance rushing around him. Vlad found it very… freeing.

There was a quick dizzying sensation when he felt himself being flipped over with no control of the process. He glanced down at his bed sheets before looking over at the genie who was sitting in the air, legs crossed around each other. "Where does it hurt?" he asked. "Here?" He jabbed at Vlad's back with a bony finger.

"No," the man groaned. Danny went on to prod him several more times until Vlad yelled directions at him. "Right there, yes."

"Hmm, all right," the teen said, poking him again, no less gentle than all of the others. However, when the pain invoking digit pulled back that time, Vlad felt all of his soreness gone.

"Wonderful," he muttered, thankful for the boy's powers. He felt himself being lowered back onto the mattress and had the sudden overwhelming urge to prevent it. "Wait, I… I think I wouldn't mind levitating here for a moment more."

"Nice, hmm?" Danny smiled, stretching himself out next to the other.

"Yes, quite. I suppose I can see why you like it so much." Not another word was spoken while he enjoyed lying comfortably in the air.

Vlad didn't even notice having fallen asleep until he fell down on the bed an hour or so later. It was then he learned that the genie's power of levitation did not transcend his slumber, at least not for long. And what had startled him seemed to leave the boy unaffected as he slept on in Vlad's bed like he owned it.

—

It was the kicking that woke Vlad up. Apparently, the other liked to kick in his sleep. The second time it happened, the man kicked right back. He received a slap in retaliation and wasn't exactly positive that it hadn't been on purpose.

He gave up on sleep after that and looked at the watch on his wrist, having fallen asleep with virtually all of his clothing still on. While he didn't want to wake up at six o' clock on a Saturday, he didn't exactly see any reason in trying to resume his rest there.

After a shower and quick change into a more comfortable and laidback set of clothing, Vlad walked back into his room to see the teen still fast asleep on his bed. Now, however, Danny had spread out to claim the entire surface, one of his legs even dangling off on Vlad's side. Not… that he had a side and the boy had a side. The whole thing was his, of course. He had just allowed the other to sleep there last night because in his exhaustion and the genie's unwavering slumber, there was no way he could have carried him anywhere. At best, he might have accomplished knocking him into the floor.

"Wake up," he ordered, shaking the entire mattress with the firm hand he had on the other's shoulder. "If I can't sleep, then neither may you." The reply to his action was a few grumbled words, and then, next thing Vlad knew, he was suddenly out in the hallway on the other side of his bedroom door. "Fine," he conceded, walking off to breakfast.

Before he had even taken a sip of his coffee, Vlad was opening his newspaper like a child with a gift at Christmas. In his hurry to get to the business section, he almost gave himself three separate paper cuts. When he did reach it, his eyes sped over the whole thing. He briefly took in each headline before moving on to the next, in search of some news about his competitor having met with a horrible accident.

Upon finding nothing there, he went on to general news, then national. Still finding nothing, he at last gave up and flung the paper uncaringly onto the table. He ate his breakfast as if it had personally wronged him.

—

Food gone, Vlad walked back upstairs, having a hard time of trying to remember what it was that he did in his off time. He decided that he would try waking the genie up again, mostly so that he could yell at the boy for not having completed his wish from the previous day.

After shaking Danny again, he tried shouting in his ear and finally tearing the blankets off of the boy. That time he ended up being transported to the first floor.

Vlad threw his hands up in exasperation and decided he might as well go to his work out area around the corner and catch up on some exercise.

—

He was in the midst of a sit-up when he pulled forward and saw the grinning boy sitting right in front of him. Alarmed, Vlad fell heavily back down onto the mat.

"You are very good at that, Master," Danny commented, following the man as he stood up.

"I'm surprised you opened your eyes long enough to notice," Vlad replied snidely, dabbing at his neck with a towel. "I had decided at noon I was going to manually drag you out of the bed so the housekeeper could make it up. You still had an hour left to lounge about like a lazy cat."

Danny yawned and stretched upwards until he was standing just on the tips of his toes. "I have not slept right in days."

"You had two thousand years to sleep." Vlad started walking towards the door with the boy on his heels. As he threw the sullied towel into a laundry bin against the wall, he asked, "What are your plans for the day, my boy? Of course, I'm talking about more than just granting unfulfilling wishes, mind you."

"You mean the man you wished about yesterday."

"I mean the man I wished about yesterday," he spat, words full of his irritation. "What's the point of making you do anything if you warp my words or don't even grant the wish?"

"Master, I said that I would make it happen, and I will. But remember, I said it would take time," Danny huffed, following him out the door.

"Time for what? I'm sure he was in a vehicle of some sort last night. How hard is it to manage a car wreck?" Vlad stopped fast and shoved the teen behind him when a maid passed by an intersecting hallway. "You're not stalling for some reason, are you?"

After a moment of silence, he turned around— intent on staring the other down— and saw that the boy had disappeared. "Of course." Spinning back around, he saw Danny floating right in front of him, big smile on his face.

"What are your plans for the day, Master?" he questioned in a transparent deflection, mirroring the words Vlad had asked him a moment ago.

"I hadn't thought on it," Vlad answered, making his suspicion regarding the matter well known with the skeptical expression he sent the other's way. "Maybe picking up another book from the library to read."

"And further taunt the genie who cannot read your English," the teen sulked, sticking his tongue out.

"No, it's merely something I enjoy doing." He began walking up the stairs and noticed after looking down that his feet weren't reaching the dark wooden steps. He was hovering just above them. "Down," he growled heatedly. Danny grinned and dropped him.

"I am bored," the teen complained.

"Watch your T.V.," Vlad countered, making a turn into his room to take, yet another, shower.

"Not to say I do not _like_ watching it, but… I wanted something else today. Do you think we can do something together?"

He waited so patiently for an answer that eventually Vlad felt he just had to throw the boy a bone. "I suppose," he said, "we could figure out something normal and inconspicuous for you to wear tomorrow evening." It didn't look to be what Danny had in mind, but he seemed at least somewhat enthusiastic about it. "After I get out of the shower."

—

"No," Vlad said, dismissing the other's first choice in costume. He had been standing outside of the bathroom door, waiting for him to come out, wearing pounds of silk that surrounded him in many different layers and even more colors. "Two thousand years ago this might have been considered formal wear." Vlad picked at the sleeveless vest the boy wore, noting how it went down past his knees with its deep purple folds and gold trim. "But when I say 'normal,' I mean that you'll be dressing more like me." He knocked the headdress off of Danny's head, and it disappeared before ever touching the ground.

"Master," the teen replied, scoffing a little, "your clothes are so _dull_! Where is the color?"

"I didn't say you had to dress _exactly_ like me," Vlad said defensively. He would take insult from the boy's words if he even understood the basics of current formal wear. As it was, he couldn't fault the other for his ignorance. He walked through the hall and into his room, sitting himself down in one of the chairs by the fireplace. "Men nowadays don't show much color. It distracts from the beautiful dresses that women wear." Danny nodded his head slowly as if thinking it through and agreeing that, somewhere, it made a little bit of sense. "Some other time, I might let you wear a bit of color in your tie or something, but given the somber nature of the event, I think black is the only way to go."

"Boring," Danny sighed.

"It's one of the conditions of you attending. Are you going to wear what I say, or can we cut this short now?" The teen shook his head slowly, eyes not looking at Vlad. "Good. Now, change into something a bit like one of my suits. You've seen me wearing them."

Danny rolled his eyes and then blinked them. When he was done, he wore an exact copy of Vlad's usual attire, only scaled down to fit his small build. "I do _not _like it," he complained. The thick fabric on his arms felt so confining and heavy, like he'd dressed in lead or some other heavy metal. "I want to take this off." He picked at the suit jacket.

The man released a noise stuck between a sigh and a groan. "Fine, fine. You're a boy, so I don't think anyone will care if you wear the jacket. Take it off." Quickly, he unbuttoned and tore it off, tossing the horrible thing on the ground and blinking it away before contact. Vlad appraised him for a minute, even making a motion for him to turn around in a circle once or twice, before deciding what should be done and standing up from his chair. "I think I know of a way we can both be pleased," he spoke, untying the bowtie from the boy's neck and throwing it down. "Shorten the shirt sleeves." He picked at the white cotton about halfway up Danny's upper arm. "To here."

The teen beamed, happy to be rid of the long sleeves, and blinked. The two of them watched as the sleeves shrunk in length until reaching the indicated measurement.

"Good," Vlad commented, placing his hand to his chin as he thought. "You'll need a tie."

"Does it _have_ to be black?" Danny groaned, running a hand along his shirt collar. The man knocked his hand away before he could wrinkle it.

"If I allow the tie to be colored, will you go along with the rest of what I say?" Vlad asked, raising his eyebrow skeptically. The boy nodded in agreement, but he didn't believe it for one second. "All right then. I think I have just the one for you." He led the other into his clothes closet and hit a switch that began a rotation of a hundred or more ties on one of the shelves. His eyes scanned back and forth until he found the one he wanted and turned it off. "Here," he said, holding up a green tie with small diagonal stripes of white and black stitched through it. "Goes with your eyes."

"But my eyes will be blue," Danny said with a sad smile.

"Ah, yes. Of course," Vlad remembered, taken aback by the fact that seeing the boy's extraordinary appearance had already become second nature to him. "Feel free to change it to blue then. You're to turn it back before returning it though." The teen nodded and took the tie. He touched one of the green stripes and it turned blue, as did all the others until the ends were met and the whole thing had been converted. He held it up and grinned. "How about you go ahead and change?" Vlad asked. "It would be easier to plan your outfit."

Danny blinked his eyes, and, just as before, when they opened again, they were that bright but natural looking blue. While his hair was turning black at the roots, he held the tie up to his eyes. "How is that?"

"Very nice," the man said, taking the length of silk from him and turning up his collar. He threw it around the boy's neck and began tying it. "Since you aren't wearing a jacket, you're at least going to put a vest on. That isn't debatable."

"I will allow it," Danny agreed. Vlad had a feeling the teen didn't care what happened anymore as long as he didn't have to wear long sleeves. Probably another wonderful point of stubbornness that came from wearing only a vest that barely went past his shoulders for so many years.

As he went to fold the shirt collar back over the completed tie, Vlad's thumb hit the gold of a hoop earring. "Have you… Have you had those in this entire time?" he asked dumbly, looking back and forth from either side of the other's face and seeing that Danny had an earring in each ear. Against the black hair and normal clothing they were horribly obvious.

"You do not notice things very well, do you?" the teen questioned with a smirk. "I actually like them, but you will not hear me thanking the Blue Djinn anytime soon." He tapped one of them while admiring his reflection in Vlad's mirror.

"You're taking them out," the man demanded.

Danny looked disappointed. "What if I make them smaller?" Vlad narrowed his eyes. "A different color?" At the worsening look of irritation on the other's face, he conceded. "Fine." He fiddled with them until he could find the long unused opening and placed them in Vlad's waiting palm. "But I want them back after the party."

"I'll think about it." He was simply happy that the large holes left in the boy's ears grew back in after a second, no doubt by magic. "Now," he continued, pocketing the gold hoops, "a vest." He browsed through his own collection of vests and three piece suits until he found one he liked and pulled it out. "Nice gray pinstripe double-breasted vest with a black satin backing. It should do well." Vlad motioned for Danny to pick up his arms, and he put the vest on him and buttoned it. "Of course, you'll want to size that to yourself," he said, looking at how it swallowed the boy.

Danny nodded, blinked, and watched as the material pulled in until it hugged him tightly— but comfortably— showing off his unfortunately lean form. "You were right, Master. I think we can both agree on this." He gazed at himself in the mirror and adjusted the tie's knot, obviously liking what he saw and unable to hide it. "But I think I will go back to dressing as I usually do until the party."

Before Vlad could stop him, he blinked and the outfit disappeared, replaced by his normal harem costume. "Where did my clothes go?" the man asked, already thinking he may as well count that particular tie and vest gone forever.

"Hanging up," Danny responded, straightening the strip of cloth that ran across his chest. "In my bottle." He gave Vlad a smile before asking, "What do you want to do now, Master?"

"I…" He looked at his watch and saw that it was barely noon. He could ditch the boy and go have lunch, but he wasn't very hungry at the moment. "I don't—"

"What is that?" the teen interrupted. Although, Vlad really had no idea how he would have finished that sentence anyway. What was there to do?

Instead of trying to figure it out, he looked up to where Danny was pointing and saw a box sitting on one of the topmost shelves. "Oh, that," he grinned, stepping on his toes and reaching up high for it. The box was a thick wood and when he finally convinced it to fall into his hands, it fell hard. He grunted as the thing slammed into his chest, but he ignored that and began brushing the dust off the top. "My old chess set."

"Chess set?" Danny asked, tilting his head quizzically to get a better look at the plain, wooden box.

"Yes, it was a gift from my father before he died. I couldn't have been more than five or six at the time." Vlad smiled fondly at it before looking up. "Would you… like to play, my boy?"

"I would like that very much," the genie answered with a grin.

Vlad walked into his room and sat the box on his coffee table before turning the chairs so that they both faced it. He took the lid off and pulled out the board, a very old piece of intricately carved wood that folded in the middle with two small, golden hinges. In the bottom were two smaller boxes— one stained dark, almost black, the other a lighter shade of wood— which he also took out. He opened the dark one and began setting the pieces from inside up on his end of the board, occasionally examining one of the elaborately shaped pieces. "I forgot how many scratches were on some of these pieces. It was old when I got it," he muttered, almost embarrassed by the state of the set.

"I like old things," Danny smiled warmly.

—

It ended up taking over an hour to explain the game, and then six rounds of play before the boy became even a _vague _challenge.

"I'm going to have to take a break," Vlad said, capturing one of the other's bishops, "and go eat my dinner soon."

Danny groaned in objection. "But, Master, I think I am finally getting how to play. This is fun. Do not stop now." He moved a knight blatantly into the line of fire, and the man was tempted to spare it because of the teen's admittance to enjoying the game. But how would he learn if Vlad didn't teach?

"You know something, Danny?" He took the knight. "You've been here a couple of days now, and I don't think I've seen you eat anything."

"Pointless." Danny sulked at the loss of his knight and tried to think his next move out more carefully. "Genies cannot die, apparently. But I think if we could, it would not be over something stupid like not eating."

"Interesting." Vlad watched the intense look of concentration on the other as he stared at the pieces. The boy probably wouldn't prosper at timed chess. "And I suppose now you simply don't eat because you feel no want?"

"I cannot remember the last time I did." Eventually, Danny chickened out and simply moved a pawn one space.

"Unable to die…" Vlad thought aloud, strategically moving his queen one space diagonally. Checkmate was imminent. "Tell me, to what lengths have you tested this presumption?"

"That is…" The genie's hand stopped short, hit off guard by the question. His fingertip gently touched the top of one of his rooks. "That is not something I want to talk about, Master." He looked to the floor, but Vlad could still just barely make out the distress and panic in his eyes. "Please do not ask me again." He grabbed the rook in his hand and clutched it so tight the man thought it might break. But then he released his hold, and put it down two spaces to the right. "Please."

Vlad could tell there was obviously a dark story there. Anyone more emotionally equipped might have made the teen talk it out, but what advice or consolation could he possibly offer? "I—"

He was cut off by the melodic ringing of his cellphone. Danny looked up swiftly, absolutely baffled by the sound, and Vlad merely held up a finger telling him to wait.

"Maddie," he grinned as he answered the phone. "So nice you called, my dear. I was going to buzz you myself later this evening." Vlad was hyperaware of the genie circling him, examining the device a mere three inches from his face and at every other available angle. "You don't say." He pulled the phone from his ear for a quick second and grit his teeth in anger, his other fist clenching. The rage was nowhere in his voice when he went on talking, though. "So Jack has been living in your hometown all this time? What are the odds?" Vlad pushed Danny away callously when he got too close again. "No, you're right." He scrunched his eyes together in exasperation and massaged them with his free hand. "It has been a long time since I've seen him. I'm glad you invited him over tomorrow. As I always say, the more the merrier." He never said that. "Hmm?" The teen touched the phone, and Vlad slapped his hand away with a loud smack. "No, I understand you have to go. Busy with packing and all of that. I miss you so much, Maddie. I can't wait to see you… _both _tomorrow. I love you."

Vlad ended the call and clenched the phone tightly in his hand. His fingers went white where he gripped it and red around the nails. Suddenly, he released a fierce yell and threw the phone on the table, scattering the pieces of the game. When that destruction didn't make him content enough, he turned the board over and the chess pieces went everywhere.

"I'm going to eat," he growled, paying no mind to the boy as he left the room.

Danny stared after him for awhile and then began to set the board back up to the best of his ability.

* * *

I put the levitating thing in there just because of it happening in an episode of _I Dream of Jeannie_. The two of them just relaxing in the air like that. Makes me envious because it looks like fun. =3= Plus, I was thinking, "Well, Plasmius likes to fly. I bet AU Vlad does too."

I just really love when stuff from the show gives me ideas for this. Like how it's mentioned in one episode that Tony and Jeannie play chess together, and I was all, "Vlad likes chess." And many other things, but… you'll have to wait to see those. Hehe.


	9. Party Planning

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash  
**Rating:** T

**Chapter Nine:** Party Planning

Sorry this took so long. I have had NO internet since March. Plus, I've been too lame to actually sit down and type. But yay, new chapter.

* * *

Vlad stared at the dark green canopy above his bed, arm ready to strike out and push the button when his alarm went off. He hated the mornings before a large event at his house. Everything was always so hectic and stressful. There were decorators running around, upsetting his Packers design; caterers demanding the use of his kitchen; and then his normal staff who walked around unsure of what to do. It was always a nightmare.

The reason he had woken up before his alarm that day, however, probably had something to do with the horrible news he had received from his fiancée the day before. Jack was coming. No, worse than that. Jack lived in Maddie's hometown and had been spending time with her the entire three months she'd been gone.

No, Vlad wouldn't let himself think along those lines. Maddie had chosen him. She had. And besides, she was coming back later that day. If there was anything going on with her and Jack, the last place they would be going was right to him. Although… the fact that she had neglected to tell him about Jack the entire time did raise a question or two…

Goodness, it was no wonder he hadn't gotten any sleep!

The alarm began beeping, and Vlad was ready for it. He hit the button, threw back his blanket, and tossed his legs over the side of the mattress to sit up. There was more stress than should be allowed in the fact that no less than three large things— and a million other small ones— had the chance to go wrong that day. Luckily, Riter would be taking most of the burden involved in ensuring that the planning for the event went well. Though Vlad might happily have switched for the chance to avoid what he would be spending his day doing.

"Rise and shine," he called in a somewhat callous tone. He grabbed the bottle from his nightstand by its neck and began shaking it a little. "Wake up."

There was a quick succession from inside of barely audible yelps, moans, and yawns. Then Vlad began to see the green smoke flowing out from the opening and sat the bottle back down.

"Master," Danny groaned once he had materialized beside the bed, his eyes still closed. "It is too early to be awake." Without waiting another second, he fell down face first onto Vlad's mattress beside him.

"Seven o' clock is late enough," the man chided. He flicked the teen's ear where it stood out from the white head of hair and smiled when the other flinched. "I could have gone earlier, but I think I can drill how to conduct oneself around people into even your head with the time we have."

"This is cruel and unusual," he mumbled into the sheets, refusing to turn his head.

"It's not my fault if you stayed up watching television all night. Again." The genie muttered something incoherent, and Vlad used the back of his hand to smack the boy's thigh and get him going. "Sit up. Do it now. We have a lot of ground to cover. Among other things, there will be a sit down dinner, and I have to teach you what utensil goes where before my attention becomes divided with other things." In other words, before Maddie and… Jack got there.

Danny made a big to-do about turning around and sitting up next to Vlad. He then lolled his head along his shoulder to look at the other for direction.

"Good," Vlad said. "We'll start with me wishing for our own little practice dining table right over there." He pointed to an empty spot of room, and the genie lazily blinked a table and chairs into existence. "Now let's have some breakfast and utensils. Yes, my boy, today you will be eating."

Danny already felt exasperated, and the day had only just begun.

—

The teen threw his head back and his arms forward. It had been so long since he had eaten, and the fruits and pastries on his plate were so delicious looking. It would have been nice if he could actually taste them. Vlad had secured him to his chair with a belt in order to help his 'slouching problem'. However, in his opinion all it did was give him the option of looking at the food or reaching it.

Vlad slapped his blindly groping hand and pushed his chair closer to the table. "You're like an animal."

Danny didn't even mind the insult because he was eating food for the first time in about… 1,700 years, by his tallying. The euphoric noises coming out of his mouth made the man cringe. "When I realized how pointless food was, I stopped eating. I forgot how good it tasted though." He stuck two whole strawberries into his mouth.

The genie's wrist was grabbed, and a fork was forced into the open palm. "Utensils, good. Stained red fingertips, bad." Danny looked at his pink fingers, caused by the dozen or so strawberries he had already eaten. He shrugged and began stabbing at the different foods with his fork.

"What is this?" he asked, brandishing a pastry whose flaky shell went flying in every conceivable direction.

"An apple turnover," Vlad answered, looking disinterestedly over the top of his newspaper. Once again he noticed no tragic news regarding his wished upon rival.

"And this?"

"A buttered biscuit."

"This?"

"Marmalade. For the toast."

"This?"

"The toast."

"And this?"

"Stop talking and eat your food," he growled. When he looked up again, he noticed how the boy had stuck a large piece of ham onto the end of his fork and was taking bites off of it. "No! No, no." Danny lowered the utensil while Vlad walked around the table, and when the man reached him, he gave the back of his hand a light slap until he dropped the fork completely. "This hand, fork," he edified with an overly simplistic explanation, thrusting the tool into the correct hand. "This hand, knife." He then grasped each of the teen's smaller hands in his own and made a sawing motion across the meat. "Honestly," Vlad sighed, walking back to his chair, "I can't believe your family had no cutlery."

"No, we did," Danny stated. He raised a smaller bite on the fork and began talking again, only to have himself quieted by the man's hand and disgusted face at the thought of him speaking with his mouth full of food. "We actually had several sets. I have just never had good manners." He smirked and stuffed another bite of food in, making a point to chew noisily and with his mouth open.

Vlad cringed at the display but said nothing, hoping the boy would straighten up for the actual dinner. He would _have _to. After all, that night was a test. He would have to prove himself if he ever wanted to step outside again. At the current moment, however, he simply gave the boy a fierce look until he closed his mouth.

Just then, there was a repetitious banging on the door, and Skulker walked into the room.

"Skulker!" Vlad yelled at the bodyguard. When he looked across the table, though, he saw that Danny had disappeared, so he took a calming breath before saying, "Knocking is pointless if you don't wait for me to permit your entrance first."

"I… apologize. I was just wondering…" He paused and looked at the table, which had never been there before that day. He noticed its two chairs, two plates, two pairs of utensils, and… shrugged it off. "I was wondering what your plans were."

"My plans?" Vlad questioned. He put his paper down and turned to look at the other. That was when he noticed his maddening genie hovering just on the other side of the opened door, less than a foot from Skulker. He only hoped the murderous outrage he felt didn't show on his face.

"Yes, for picking Maddie up from the airport. Are you coming along?"

"Of course— _No_!" Skulker was right for staring at him so strangely, no matter how justified Vlad was in his outburst. The teen had floated higher and higher in the air until he was looking over the door and hovering in plain sight.

"Uh, what?" the other man asked, clearly confused.

"I mean… I always— _Don't_!" He yelled out again when the boy went back for a second look. He was going to kill him!

"So… that would be a no?"

Vlad ignored Skulker— barely even heard him— as he glared daggers at the genie behind the door. Apparently his bodyguard thought the look for him, however, and slowly began stepping out into the hall. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way back then." He closed the door behind him, and Danny disappeared, going back to his seat.

The man stood up and made to follow after Skulker, only turning back to give the other a warning. "If you keep acting like that, I'm only going to let you out of your bottle when I—" Danny shoved a pastry into Vlad's unsuspecting mouth and laughed overzealously as the man spat it back out, nearly choking. He coughed a few times before collecting himself. "That wasn't funny," he said, trying to talk over the still snickering genie. "And consider yourself on your last chance. One more act of disobedience, and you can stay upstairs for the evening."

"_Fine,_" he groaned, sobering almost instantly. "You have to admit, that man is very odd looking."

"That's why I hired him. To look 'odd' and intimidating." Vlad went to the door and opened it, only to see that Skulker was long gone. He would simply have to wait and see Maddie when they got back.

"He has green hair."

"You're a sixteen-year-old with white hair. I think you're both weird."

They finished their breakfast in relative silence, Vlad only speaking up when Danny was doing something wrong, most likely on purpose.

—

"Riter!" Vlad yelled, avoiding the numerous strangers running around as he looked for his assistant. He finally found him in the dining room, sitting at the table with a pen and paper while a woman beside him worked on a floral arrangement. "Riter," he called again, getting the other's attention.

"Yes?" He looked up and straightened out his oval-shaped glasses.

"Whatever you're doing, stop." Vlad stood angrily with his arms crossed.

"I was working on a short speech for you to say tonight, but sure, I'll stop." He put his pen down and stood up, looking slightly irritated at having been interrupted.

"There's a container of seafood outside in the sun, and everyone I tell to get it promptly lets me know that it isn't their job. Make a note that we're never using this company again."

Riter picked up a clipboard from the table and wrote a quick message down. He then flipped through the papers fixed to it and ran his finger down a list. "Yes, I know exactly who's responsible for it. I've been yelling at him all morning."

"Well, see that you find him and have him bring it in. Or do it yourself. Either way, I don't care, but the last thing I want is for mourners to go home with food poisoning." Vlad stomped away from the room and into the hall where he saw in his peripheral vision two large figures standing in the open door on either side of a third, smaller one.

"Vlad." He heard his name and turned to look at the three. Maddie was standing there between Skulker and Jack. Beaming happily, he practically ran over and was seconds away from embracing her when Jack stepped in the way and grabbed him.

"Vladdy, my man!" he yelled, giving a crushing bear hug. "How ya been?"

"I'd be better if I could breathe," he gasped out.

"Oh," Jack realized. "Right." He dropped him, and the man took a deep, coughing breath in and out. Vlad felt a gentle hand rubbing his back and turned around to see Maddie. She already looked apologetic on Jack's behalf. It was like college all over again, her always making excuses for him.

"I've missed you so, my dear." He hugged her at last before pulling back to give her a loving kiss. Even when they parted, he kept a hand on her, to assure himself that she was really there before him, back after so many months. It had only been three, but to him it felt like a lifetime almost. "How was your trip?"

"Just fine," she smiled. She went to sit her bag down, but Vlad grabbed it and threw it at Skulker.

"And your mother?" he asked, walking them out of the entryway. "How is she?"

"The same," Maddie sighed. "She still hates you but loves your money."

"Oh, that woman," Vlad chuckled. "She'll have to warm up to me eventual… ly." His eyes widened when he looked over and saw Danny in the ballroom through the open archway. Thankfully, he had turned his appearance and clothing to something more normal, but he was still not allowed to go around without permission. "Would you excuse me? Just a moment, my dear. When I get back, I want to hear all about your trip."

He dashed across the hall. "_What_ are you _doing_?!" he yelled at the boy in the quietest way possible.

"I only wanted to see her." The teen looked over at the group standing in the hall, and Vlad grabbed him roughly by the arm, leading him away.

"That doesn't changed the fact that you are not allowed out unless I say otherwise. Do I have to stuff you in your bottle until this evening?"

"No!" Danny was quick to object.

"Then go back upstairs," Vlad commanded.

"I will, but…" he trailed off.

"But what?" the man asked heatedly.

"Who is that man? The one standing by her?" The teen leaned as far as Vlad's grip would allow him, trying to see back into the foyer.

"Him?" Vlad questioned skeptically. "The big oaf in the orange jumpsuit? That's Jack, our old college friend. The sooner I can get him out of here, the better. There's no telling how he's going to ruin tonight."

"Jack," the boy said pensively. Then Vlad's grip went lax, and Danny was gone. He looked around quickly and was grateful to see that no one had noticed.

"Maddie," he called, walking back to the group, "why don't you go upstairs and rest?"

"Sounds great, Vlad, but I thought we were going to talk first." She looked ill at ease, and Vlad tried to console her.

"We will, we will. I only have a few things to take care of first. So why don't you go on up, and I'll be there shortly?" He put a hand to the small of her back and pushed her gently towards the stairs.

"Vladdy," Jack boomed, causing him to jump. "I'm digging the décor. Packers stuff everywhere and— is that a football?" He started right for Vlad's autographed Ray Nitschke ball. "We should go out back before the stuffed shirts get here and throw the ol' pigskin."

Vlad ran ahead and threw himself in front of the ball. "No, Jack. No. I have things to do and… Skulker," he called, "why don't you go show Jack to one of the guestrooms? I'm sure he'd like to get settled in."

"Great thinking, Vlad. I'll need to be well rested if we're gonna play." Jack grabbed his bags and headed up the stairs, Skulker quick to follow.

"We're _not_ playing football!" Vlad yelled. He walked to an empty room and called for Danny so that the teen might explain his fascination with Maddie. When he didn't show, however, Vlad sighed and forgot about it. "That boy will be the death of me."

—

"You look lovely, dear," Vlad praised, looking Maddie over in the new dress he had gotten her. The color was a plain gray for the solemn occasion, but it was cut in such a way— and had such nice accents— that it was hardly plain itself. "One last touch," he said, brushing his hands over her one bare shoulder and the slight sleeve of the other as he clasped a necklace around her. He turned her around and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something to take care of."

"Vlad," she sighed, grabbing onto his sleeve. "I thought we were going to have a chance to talk."

"We will," he promised. "Things are simply very busy tonight. But we have the rest of our lives to talk, starting tomorrow." He grabbed her hand, gave it a kiss, then walked out into the hall.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching him, Vlad walked to the next door down and unlocked it with the key he had. "Danny?" he called as he entered the boy's room. "Come out now. It's time to get ready, and I'm in no mood for games."

The genie appeared before him, wearing his usual attire. Vlad raised an eyebrow, and Danny groaned before blinking his agreed upon formal wear on. "And I am allowed to talk to people."

"As long as they talk to you first," the man reiterated, straightening the boy's tie out. "I don't want you bothering these people. They've been through enough. The first time you cause a scene—"

"I get kicked out. I know." He swatted Vlad's hand away and stepped back. "Can I go downstairs yet?"

"Not yet," Vlad answered, trying to catch the teen again and fix his vest. "No one's arrived, and you'd stick out too much. I have to go now. You can follow me down in about half an hour. And while I don't want you clinging on me, I want you in my sights at all times. Are we clear?"

"That is a new rule, Master. It is not fair, and I hate it." He scoffed and began sulking like a child.

"And yet those are my terms. Accept them or stay in your room."

Danny rolled his eyes, but eventually nodded his assent. "I will see you downstairs."

"Good." Vlad left and walked back to his room to get Maddie, hoping against hope that nothing would go wrong and feeling in his gut that at least one thing would.

* * *

I feel like I've been writing forever trying to get to this memorial "party" thing. Soon. Like next chapter actually. Hopefully then things will pick up and this will be easier to write.

I already have the next chapter written, but I'm going to read over it about a million times. So… soon… ish.


	10. All Dressed Up

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T

**Chapter Ten:** All Dressed Up

I really have no excuse for why it took so long for me to submit this, so I shall not make one. I will, however, apologize. So sorry for the wait.

* * *

Danny sat in his room, waiting for what felt like the appropriate time to go downstairs. He considered that to be when he heard a steady drum of voices, indicating a decent sized crowd.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered as he left his room and descended to the gathering.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he immediately began looking for Vlad. The man had set unfair rules, but he would follow them to prevent being forced back upstairs or— worse yet— into his bottle. Well, he would _try_ to follow them. If he just so happened to lose Vlad in the crowd…

Danny watched the people enter through the front door. Some stayed in the foyer, others drifted in and out of the dining room and ballroom. Their clothes were all so boring and colorless, their faces grim or unresponsive. There were two portraits on either side of the hall, and Danny assumed them to be the men the soiree was meant for. In the middle of it all stood Vlad, welcoming people at the door with his fiancée at his side.

The teen stood in the center of the hall, utterly conspicuous and waiting for Vlad to take notice of him. He finally did a few moments later, and Danny considered the nod he received to be the man's approval to walk around that area a little.

A man walked by with a plate of food, and the boy took a sample when he noticed people doing the same. It was some sort of spicy fish, and when Danny went to grab a bubbly drink off of another plate to wash it down, the server gave him a dirty look and pulled the tray away from him.

"Rude," he scoffed, picking several other hors d'oeuvres off plates and looking for a quiet place to eat them.

His nest of choice was between the wrapping arms of the dual staircase in the entryway. Danny leaned against the railing and noticed another boy about his age hiding behind the bend in the stairs. He looked bored as he sat there. But he was so intrigued with whatever he was holding that he hadn't noticed Danny approach, not even when he got closer and began looking over his shoulder. It seemed to be that he was holding one of those little squares like his master used for talking to people.

The boy noticed him suddenly and looked over his shoulder, fixing him with a mean look. It seemed like he wanted the genie to explain himself, but Danny was observing Vlad's rules. So he stood there quietly and waited for the other to talk first.

"What?!" he finally yelled at him. "Are you gonna go tell on me for ducking out and using my phone?"

"No," Danny answered simply. "I was only wondering what it was."

"The… phone?" The genie nodded. "Geez, where are you from, the fifteenth century?"

"Actually, I am from—"

"Save it," the boy interrupted. He groaned and tried to bite back his attitude some. "It's a _phone_. You use them for talking to people with. Well, that's what old people do anyways. Most everybody else texts or plays games."

"Mm-hmm." Danny nodded his head as he listened along. He'd have to get himself a phone, if that's what everyone was doing. "I want one."

"Then get your own. Ask your dad, or whoever, like I did."

The teen thought about it and decided he would. "Thank you."

He walked away and looked up just in time to see Vlad fix him with a stern look over having lost sight of him for the brief minute he had. If the man was going to be so hard on him, there was no way he'd be able to do _anything _he wanted.

Accepting his limitations, Danny wandered around in plain sight of Vlad, grabbing the occasional treat and avoiding contact with most people as he had no interest in talking to them. The whole evening was going in no way like he had wanted it to.

He didn't get any reprieve from his boredom until a while later when Vlad motioned for him to follow along into the dining room like everyone else.

Danny entered and saw two large tables, combined together at the far side with a third perpendicular one. Vlad made his way to the end table and gestured for Danny to take a seat not too close— but not too far away from— himself. He noticed the people glancing at him strangely and really hoped that it wasn't because they were wondering who his parents were and where they had wandered off to, leaving him alone.

The teen looked around the tables and saw that the only person even moderately near his fixed age was the boy he had spoken with earlier. (And he wasn't of the more amiable persuasion.) The rest were all older, which made him sulk. Though not his only reason for coming, he had really wanted someone his own age to talk with. His curiosity was running amuck wondering what teenagers in more recent years acted like. He trusted the boy from before wasn't a standard personality type.

At that moment, the chatter died down as two hired hands brought in the portraits from the hallway. They were placed behind Vlad, who stood with his glass in one hand and one of Maddie's own resting in the palm of his other. He cleared his throat and began talking. "Let me first bring your attentions to the Kelso family," he gestured with his glass to a group of people sitting together at one of the side tables, "and the Smith family," he motioned towards another group sitting opposite the first. "Because if not for the brave men whom they called 'son'… and 'husband', I would not be standing before you here tonight. It was these mens' courage and…"

Danny zoned out around that point. He wasn't trying to be disrespectful, but he knew that Vlad himself hadn't written those words. As a result, they had lost almost all of their meaning. Personally, Danny was more interested in watching the man two chairs down from Vlad.

Jack Fenton, the man who unnerved his master, sat on Maddie's right, and his face was in a horrible contortion of unrest. The man looked extremely troubled, and it was a small surprise that a minute or two later he quietly removed himself from the table and left the room. Danny was puzzled and knew immediately that he could not leave it at that.

Dinner still not even served, Danny picked up his fork from the table and made a small show of dropping it on the floor. He bent down low to pick it up and wondered why he even bothered being sly because no one was paying him a moment's attention. They were hanging on Vlad's manufactured words. He grabbed the fork and leaned even further under the table, catching a brief glance of a dozen pairs of legs before he blinked himself to the hallway outside.

He looked ever so slightly around the corner and saw that Vlad hadn't noticed his departure. After that, he followed an open door down a short hall. At the end of it was a room with a wall almost full of windows, through which he saw Jack. The man was outside on the terrace, leaning against the railing and looking out upon the grounds.

Danny tiptoed out the open door and into the cool mid-Spring air of the night. He lingered for a minute, wanting to speak up and let him know he was there and was angry that Vlad's stupid rule wouldn't let him. He figured that clearing his throat didn't _really _count.

"Oh," the big man turned around to look at him. "You sneak out, too? You're welcome to share the balcony, if you're looking for something to lean against."

The teen walked over and threw himself against the rail. He looked up at the man's face and saw that he still looked incredibly troubled. "You look like someone about to do something bad."

Jack looked taken aback for a second but quickly let his face return to its saddened expression. "I wish I could say you don't know what you're talking about, but you pretty much hit the nail on the head."

"It does not make you a bad person," Danny replied, his chest feeling tight. "Doing one bad thing."

"It's kind of a big thing," the man uttered with a gloomy chuckle. "And to such standup guy. You heard him in there. He's great. And I've been doing him wrong." It seemed obvious Jack's conscience was what had driven him out of the room. "What kind of a man does that?"

"You are not bad!" the teen yelled, pushing off the banister to stand up straight. "You are a good man. You can be a bit silly, and maybe sometimes you embarrass the people around you. But they know you mean well. They know. And they know you love them. Never forget that. Because they love you, too, and they always will."

"Are you okay, son?" Jack put his giant paw caringly on Danny's shoulder.

"I… You love her, right?" He looked up at the man pleadingly.

"How do you—"

"Right?!"

They stared at each other for a long moment until Jack finally broke down and answered. "More than life itself… Not that my life has been worth much these past several years."

"Then you make sure that she knows." He paused for a minute and took a deep breath, pained at what he was about to say. "And you need to be with her."

"It's not that easy," the man tried to say.

"No, it _is_ that easy!" Danny shook Jack's hand off and looked at him fiercely. "You _need_ to be with her."

Jack stared for a long minute, searching him with a scrutinizing gaze. "Just who are you, kid?"

"Nobody," he answered shakily, losing his drive. He took one step back and then another. "I am nobody."

"Wait, where are you going?" Jack asked, trying to grab and hold him there.

"Tell her," Danny ordered, backing out of his reach. "Tell her you love her and that you will not leave here without her." He turned around then and ran for it, no doubt leaving a very confused Jack Fenton behind.

Danny didn't return to the party.

—

Vlad noticed that Danny was gone precisely twenty-three seconds after his disappearance. He stammered over the next line of his speech and almost dropped his glass in alarm, only to have his very next thought be a question as to why he was surprised at all. He looked around the room anxiously for any sign that his mischievous magic had been used and was pleased there was none. No easily visible signs at least.

Maybe he was asking for too much, but as Vlad finished up his speech and sat down, he really hoped the boy had simply gotten bored and returned to his room.

The rest of the dinner went relatively well. Everyone ate in a quiet, amiable manner. Maddie was able to tell him some about her leave. The families were overwhelmingly grateful when he announced he would be supporting their finances for a time and any child's education. Riter always knew the best ways to manipulate a horrible situation into one where he ended up with a magnificent public appearance.

Even with things have gone fairly well, Vlad couldn't have been happier to see the last of the guests off. There was less chance for something to go wrong if there was no one there. He breathed out a loud sigh of relief and leaned heavily against the door as he loosened his tie. "Having a genie won't be worth the trouble if I die of stress before age forty," he groused.

Vlad left the entryway and retreated to the sitting room. He noticed the help had already been through and kindled the fire. Always he insisted on having a lit fireplace as late into the year as possible. He appreciated their atmosphere. Not to mention that in a castle— a building adorned with dozens of hearths— not lighting a fire almost seemed like an architectural waste.

There was a light tapping on the doorframe, and Vlad looked over to see who had walked in. "Maddie," he smiled. Her clothes had been changed into something more comfortable. "Do sit down. Now that we finally have a minute, I would love nothing more than to rest and have a conversation with you."

"Vlad," she started. He patted the cushion on the sofa next to himself, and she complied to his request.

"I suppose that on my end things were fairly standard," he said, leaning back and putting his arm around her shoulders. "The only thing out of the ordinary was my plane crash, but I'm sure you don't want to hear about that."

"Vlad," she began again, pulling his arm from around herself and sitting up straighter. "We need to talk."

"I thought that's what we were doing, my dear." He tittered at her, but the humor quickly left him when he saw the grave expression on her face. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Everything," Maddie answered miserably. She sucked in a shaky breath and looked as though she might cry. "Everything went wrong. When I first left, things were fine. But then I met up with Jack, and—"

"Jack?" he questioned, his brow lowering in anger. "What did Jack do?"

"Nothing." She crossed her arms around herself defensively. "It's what I did."

"Well, whatever you did I forgive you." Vlad felt a horrible, sickening weight settle in his stomach. He knew not the facts, but already it was as though the carefully constructed walls of his life were tumbling down and in upon themselves. But it didn't matter. He would rebuild them. He reached a hand out to her, but she pulled back.

Turning away from him and looking into the fire, she said, "It's not that simple."

"What do you mean? Of course it is. I forgive you. I don't even care what happened because I love you. You're my fiancée, my future wife. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don't care what happened during some ridiculous three month excursion." Maddie began wringing her hands together in her lap. He kneeled on the floor in front of her and covered them with his own. "Maddie, I don't care." It was a lie, but he tried to say the words like it wasn't. How convincing could a man sound when his world was cracking and crumbling around him though?

There were unshed tears in her eyes. He had seen her tear up on many an occasion, but very rarely did they ever drop. She was too strong to let them fall and too kindhearted to hold them back entirely. That was his Maddie.

She said nothing but leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. Just as quietly, she drew one of her hands back and placed it atop Vlad's. Turning them over, she pressed her palm into his. Then she pulled away entirely, leaving an extravagant diamond ring in the upturned surface of his hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her hand reached up to stroke his face, but she let it drop before it ever actually reached. "I'm so sorry," she repeated.

Maddie stood to leave, and Vlad allowed her her departure. He was too busy kneeling desolately on the floor, hand still outstretched and holding the ring. His stomach ached with nausea. His chest burned because in that moment he had forgotten how to even breathe.

She had been his. She had promised to marry him, to spend the rest of her life with him. And then Jack had…

"No," he decided. Vlad gripped the ring tightly in his hand and stood on shaky legs. It would not end like that. He wouldn't let it.

He tore across the sitting room and threw open the door. Storming out into the hall, he was just in time to see Maddie as she walked out. Jack stood in the entryway, looking at him and wearing every expression a man could wear. The most prevalent of them all, though, was pity. Vlad Masters would _not_ be pitied.

"You," he growled, stomping across stone and carpeted rugs. He saw Jack turn away for a second to say something to Maddie, but his attention was quickly back to Vlad, ready to accept what the man had to say. "You good-for-nothing fat oaf! It's not enough that your own life is pathetic. Now you feel you have to bring me down as well. We were friends once. How could you do this to me?" Jack's balled hands shook and he stared guiltily down at the floor. "Answer me!"

His reply was mumbled and quiet at first, but then he cleared his throat and spoke up. "I didn't want to. You have to believe me, Vladdy. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. But I love her and—"

"No," Vlad objected, shaking his head. "_You_ do not love her. _I_ love her. And she loves me. But you've been- been brainwashing her for months, and she's forgotten."

"Vlad," Jack sighed. "I didn't want any of this to happen, especially not like this."

"You keep saying that, yet I don't see you doing anything to stop it." Vlad's hand trembled around the ring he held. So badly he wanted nothing more than to punch the other man. "If what you're saying is true, then you wouldn't have allowed this to take place."

"I hadn't planned on it. I was going to go and leave Maddie here before she did something she regretted. But…" He paused. "There was this black-haired boy on the balcony. I don't even know who he was, but he told me that I had to tell her how I felt and be with her."

Vlad froze on the spot. "Black… haired boy." No, it wasn't possible. He couldn't have. The boy was a trickster but this…

Jack remained there for a second or two longer but cowardly withdrew as Vlad stood stunned. He barely even noticed as the large man closed the door and left.

A moment later Vlad broke from his reverie like a shot. He wanted Maddie back, yes, and he would have her. But there was something much more important to do first.

It was the quickest flight upstairs he had ever accomplished. Steps, hallways, doors, they were all a blur. All he was aware of was the fact that he was suddenly on the second floor and charging into the genie's room.

And there the boy sat, relaxing in the deep sill of his window and looking out at the starry sky like he hadn't a care in the world.

Vlad dug his hands into the white collared shirt the boy still wore. Danny released a quick yelp of surprise as the man yanked him off the window and threw him hard against the unyielding stone wall, pinning him there.

"Why?" he snarled, a short, straightforward question. "Was it because I wouldn't sleep with you? Is that it? Is it?!" The teen wouldn't respond or even look him in the eye, so Vlad shook him, callously hammering his head against the brick. "Why did you do it?"

Finally Danny glanced at him, and there was that expression again, that look of pity that Vlad hated. "I did not want to."

"I've been hearing that a lot tonight," Vlad ground out, more than ready to take all his frustrations out on the boy. "You'll have to give me a better excuse than that."

"They look…" He trailed off uncertainly until the man tightened his grip on the shirt and raised him off the floor. "They look like my parents!" Danny yelled out suddenly. In his hurry to say everything he felt was necessary, he spoke at double speed to get it all out before Vlad cut him off. "They do. And maybe it sounds crazy, but I thought that if they had children, one would be like me. I only wanted this new Danny to have the life I never got."

Vlad roared and threw the genie to the ground, using his newly freed hand to tear wildly through his neat hair as he yelled out loud, a vicious, echoing sound of anger and torment.

"What is done is done, Master."

Talking was the last thing Danny should have done in that moment. Enraged, Vlad fell to the floor next to where the boy was trying to sit up and knocked him back down with a right hook, with his hand that still held the ring so tightly. "No. No, it isn't! Undo it! Now." With his free hand, he grabbed Danny's tie and pulled him up. "I wish that she would leave Jack and come back to me. And this isn't the sort of wish I want you to grant whenever it's convenient. I mean _now_."

"I cannot," the teen said. He flinched as soon as it was out, expecting another negative reaction from the man. Regrettably, he did receive it. Vlad's knuckles dragged furiously along the brow of his nose. The crunching, crackling sound it made was as undeniable as the words Danny was determined to get out. "She does not love you. In order for her to come back, I would need a love spell. I know almost nothing about them, except for what is in the _Genie Manual_. But they are too tricky for a beginner like me."

Vlad kneeled beside the other and silently fumed. He took deep breaths as he thought about what to do. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy attempt to sit up again. Looking at him head on, he saw a trail of freakish green blood drip down from the genie's brow and nose.

"Get in your bottle," Vlad finally spoke, each word long enough to be its own sentence. Danny didn't seem to want to comply, but he didn't look ready to disobey either. Begrudgingly— and with one last glance of pity— he turned to smoke and drifted through the air and into the next room, where he sunk into the bottle. Vlad was quick behind him and jammed the cork into the opening as soon as the last tendril of green had disappeared.

"You can stay in there another two thousand years and rot, for all I care."

* * *

My favorite chapter yet. So. many. emotions! Gah, I am such a jerk to Vlad. And, consequently, Danny.

I love when I get signs that tell me this crossover was always meant to be. Like the fact that Jeannie from _I Dream of Jeannie_ has green(/red) blood instead of just red like a normal person. Sound like somebody else we know? Hehehe.


	11. And Nowhere to Go

**Title: **The Boy in the Bottle  
**Pairing: **Vlad Masters/Danny Fenton (Maybe more…?)  
**Summary: **Vlad Masters is marooned on a deserted island, that is until he finds a strange bottle. And what should be inside but a teenage boy? Alternate universe to the tune of _I Dream of Jeannie_.  
**Warning: **Slash.  
**Rating:** T

**Chapter Eleven:** And Nowhere to Go

* * *

The crackling of the fire was sporadic. The flame was dying and the wood around it was little more than charred embers, riddled with black and a faint pervading glow. Vlad sat in the parlor where just an hour before Maddie had walked out on him. He clutched the ring harshly in his palm. Some might consider his lingering in the room masochism, but he knew what he was doing and why he was doing it. The room and its new memories would fuel his anger, his passion. He would keep those feelings strong and not let them wither like the fire before him.

When he had left his miserable genie upstairs, he had stormed through the house, yelling loud and angrily for Skulker. But the man was not to be found. It was not the sort of disappointment Vlad needed in that moment.

He stewed and raged for quite a long while until his phone rang in his pocket. It was Skulker. When he answered it, there was a tirade forming in his mind that never got its chance to be uttered. He had followed them, as Skulker was quick to say. Guessing his boss's mentality and desire, he had tailed their cab without needing the command or consent. He had seen a chance to hunt and taken it.

Vlad was waiting for the man to come back and escort him to the hotel they had chosen to stay the night in.

It seemed only minutes before Skulker returned and not much longer than that they were sitting in front of the building. He wasn't sure what his plan was from there. Until that moment, he had only been living in the past indiscretions of the evening and his perfect future where Maddie returned to her senses and him. How to get to that ideal point was a design just out of his reach.

"If you're looking for a window," Skulker voiced quietly from the driver's seat of the vehicle, "this is probably it." He pointed to the hotel's main entrance, thoroughly tearing Vlad from his reverie. It was Jack— silly, ridiculous, stupid Jack— and he was leaving.

A cab passed the big man by and he did not wave for its attention. Instead he walked down the sidewalk, and not idly either. He had a destination in mind, that was for sure. And since he walked on foot, he probably would not be long.

Vlad was out of the car and slamming its door as soon as Jack rounded the corner and left his sight.

He knew the room number. Skulker had found it out shortly after Jack and Maddie had checked in, bribing the front desk clerk who gladly accepted the hundred dollars that minimum wage would not give him and uncaringly betraying a trust that a forced graveyard shift did not earn.

The lobby was small, uninviting, and nothing like the grand palaces that he himself stayed in when traveling. He walked through the small room and into the elevator as coolly as if he had been a guest who belonged there. The ride up was short, a mere three stories, which was good because too long of a ride would have given him time to think— not about what he was going to say, but about what in the world he was doing, sneaking into a place unwanted.

But no, he wasn't unwanted. Maddie still loved him, of that he was sure. However distance had doused that flame between them; time had dulled its shine, and Jack Fenton had tried to cut the binding thread. The elevator dinged and he walked out. Vlad would not stand for such utterly depraved brainwashing.

His open palm slid quietly down the door behind which Maddie waited. Vlad felt his first real shock of hesitance. What if he was wrong? No, he was never wrong. But what if…

His first curled, and the skin drawn tightly over his clenched knuckles rapped calmly against the metal door, carved and painted to look like wood. There was a sound from inside, the brief movement of cheap box springs.

A sigh, then, "Vlad? What are you…" She trailed off. Knowing he must have been spied through the peephole, Vlad felt foolish. He should have covered it. He could not have this conversation through a door. Everything he had to say would lose no less than half of its meaning.

"Maddie," he implored, "open the door."

"I'm not sure if I should." She sounded so hesitant, and the words felt like fingers of ice digging around in his heart with no general purpose or destination, just wanton destruction.

"You know that I mean you no harm," he told her. Vlad flattened his hand against the door longingly but quickly brought it behind his back when he felt he was making a weak display of himself.

"I know that, Vlad. Of course I do." There was a dull thudding sound. When she spoke again, her voice sounded nearer, as though she was then leaning against the door. "Jack went down the block to the store. He'll be back soon."

"Then you should open the door so that we may talk," Vlad pleaded urgently.

A long moment passed, though it could have been only seconds to anyone but Vlad. A subtle click went off that sounded like a lock, then the door opened. Maddie stood in the doorway, dressed already in her pajamas for the evening but looking just as beautiful to him as she had earlier in her lovely dress.

Her face was a horrible visage of sadness and guilt. She looked on the edge of tears, and he was equally ready dry them if they started. It wasn't her fault, nothing was her fault, and he would not blame her. "I'm sorry," Maddie said, and that felt like a step in the right direction for Vlad. "There aren't words for how sorry I really am."

"Then don't strain yourself trying, my dear," Vlad said, pleased. "I don't blame you. I forgive you even. Just come home and we'll sort this all out." He took a step closer, and her hand wrapped tighter around the still open door.

"It's been ten years." He nodded in agreement. Yes, ten years. "I've tried to make myself feel…" She paused and instantly Vlad did not like the direction she was going. "To feel the way that I wanted to. But a part of me— this small, almost insignificant part— that I couldn't deny was always thinking of Jack, happy, silly, sometimes stupid Jack."

Vlad's hands recoiled behind his back, the fingers of one hand squeezing the wrist of the other mercilessly to keep in his control. "That's ridiculous," he said, slowly and evenly, trying to control his temper. "Jack, of all people. He's an idiot and a fool. He could never provide for you like I can."

"I know, Vlad. He can't compare with your businesses and your wealth, but that doesn't matter, not really. I can't stop thinking about him, the way you can't stop thinking about your company. And with our focuses so divided, how can we truly belong together?" She let go of the door and stepped into the hall, putting a gentle hand on his tense shoulder. "Don't you see?"

"No," he stated obstinately. "I don't 'see', Maddie. I don't. You tell me you can't stop thinking of Jack. We'll send him packing. You say I'm obsessed with my work. That's over now. Things are secure. I have time for you now, more than enough."

"Vlad," she started, only to be interrupted.

"No," he said again, grabbing her wrist and stopping its sympathetic caress. "Nothing is more important than you. Don't you understand? I'll take off of work to make time for you. I'll sell my companies if it means you'll come back. I'll…"

She shook her head sadly, almost crying. Vlad knew then he was wrong. He didn't want to wipe those tears away. They were cruel and vicious, piteous things. He hated them. "I just can't," she said.

"I won't accept this," he announced, throwing her hand down. "If you think I'll give you up, you are sorely mistaken. I will not rest until—"

"Vlad, I'm pregnant," she stated loudly, might have yelled if not for fear of making a scene and drawing other guests from their rooms.

"I…" Vlad was at a loss for words. He took a step back, feeling in a daze.

"Jack," Maddie told him quietly, "doesn't even know yet." She wrapped her arms around her chest in a defensive stance and rubbed at her upper arms self-consciously. "I feel awful, Vlad, horrible. It's bad enough that I couldn't fight these feelings around Jack for those three months, but…" She began crying, indulging in a moment of self-pity that her usually strong persona didn't allow for. "But then there's this guilt as well. Because I cheated on you too."

Vlad closed his eyes and took deep breaths, thinking of something, anything, to say. In what he felt was a last bid for things to go back to normal, he uttered, "We can… raise the child together."

He offered so much, but Maddie only shook her head morosely. She raised a hand to touch or hug him but let it fall back down, knowing he didn't really need— and probably didn't want— it right then. She stepped back into her hotel room and rested her palm against the door. "Goodbye, Vlad," she said, running her hand up and down the fake wood. "Promise me you won't linger on this. You should forget about me and go be happy. Promise me?"

Vlad looked up from a floor he had found so interesting, a carpet that might have held all the answers. He stared her in the eyes and said nothing. He did not nod his head; he did not shake his head.

He turned as mechanically as a soldier and left, hoping (in vain) to meet Jack Fenton on his way out.

—

Danny yelled as his shoulder hit hard against the cork in his bottle. Despite the pain, he flew up again, trying to dislodge it. The accursed thing didn't budge an inch. He sank forlornly downward until he rested on his couch and pillows.

He touched at his face where Vlad had hit him. It stung, but every time he touched it again, it hurt a little less. How long had he been there, sealed once more in his horrible bottle? Surely it had only been a few minutes. For all he knew, though, it had been hours. Time was a funny, useless, incalculable thing to a genie that had been locked away for so many unending years. What if he had been there for years? What if Vlad had left him years ago?

No, Vlad wouldn't do that. Vlad needed him. He did.

More time passed. Danny began bargaining, yelling out promises in hopes that Vlad would hear them. He would stop being such a pest by tormenting the man with his magic. He would apologize again and again for what he had done. He would… If he had to he would actually fulfill Vlad's wish for harm against his rival, instead of putting it off day after day.

Time sped by around him, leaving Danny feeling utterly forsaken in the quiet gloom. He was lying on his stomach, unblinking eyes drawn but unfocussed to the other side of his bottle, when he heard a loud bang and then footsteps.

He sat bolt upright and strained his ears to hear more. The steps came closer and he stood, smoothing out his vest and pants to make himself appear more presentable.

The world turned around him as Vlad picked up the bottle and wrenched out the stopper, throwing it across the room.

"Get out," he commanded in a low voice, setting the bottle back down on his bedside table.

Danny obeyed without a moment's hesitation, glad to be free of his prison. When he had materialized and turned around, he saw Vlad at the other end of the room. The man was in his shirt and pants only, no jacket, no tie, no shoes. Even a couple of his shirt buttons were undone.

There was sharp but hollow thud as Vlad sat glass bottles onto the wooden coffee table. Then he pushed the chairs around with a loud scrape across the floor until they were facing each other. He picked up one of the bottles, and Danny didn't need to be told that it was a strong drink. He could smell it on the other already. "This stuff is horrible. 120 proof," Vlad said, gesturing with the bottle before throwing it to him. "Means that it's 60% alcohol. And I _wish_," he spat the word, "for you to drink it all with me."

Danny didn't resist, couldn't have if he wanted to since Vlad wished it. He became surprised soon enough though when the awful drink began to make him feel woozy. Apparently it was much stronger than what he had been drinking for years. He made an effort to slow how quickly he drank that liquid blaze down.

Every time Danny tried to say something, Vlad would tell him to be quiet, so they sat in silence for a good long while, what must have been a half an hour at least. They reclined in their respective chairs, sipping at their glasses and cringing slightly at the burn.

Eventually, when he could take it no longer, Danny blurted out, "I want to apologize, Master, but I cannot." Vlad glanced at him indifferently and scoffed. "I think apologies mean that a person is sorry for their actions. However, I know that I would do it again, for my own selfish reasons."

"No, no," Vlad slurred sarcastically. "Really, your words are… too kind." He raised his glass but did not drink, only stared at it.

"I only wanted you to know that even though I see what I did as necessary, I am not without my regret. I wanted her to be with my fa— with Jack, but for your happiness, I also wanted her to stay." Finishing what he had to say, Danny fell silent again.

After a few minutes and several more drinks, Vlad quietly said, "Tell me about your parents."

"You…" Danny sat up straight in his seat. "You want to know about my parents?"

"No, not really," Vlad answered callously, as if the idea was offending. "But you want to talk about them, and this is probably the only time I'll ever actually listen, when I'm drunk. Granted, I'm probably very likely to forget everything you say by morning."

Danny nodded and sat his drink down on the table. He did want to talk about them. After meeting Jack and Maddie, they had been constantly in his mind. "My father was a merchant."

"No," Vlad objected, cutting him off, "you've spoken of him already." He took a drink. "Tell me instead about your mother."

"Oh," the boy spoke, "right. My mother, she was not from around where we lived. She was the daughter of a…" Danny paused, looking ashamed. "It was a king or a lord or…""You can't remember?" the other asked with a derisive snort.

Danny bowed his head disgracefully. "She told me once, but I was not listening. I thought it was boring, and… there were so many more important things to do… At the time they seemed important anyway. Now I only wish I could go back and listen to her stories. Because I pushed them off so many times I think that she stopped trying."

The boy looked so pitiful that Vlad felt compelled to assist him. "Surely she was from the west, given her— what I'm assuming was— red hair?"

"Yes," Danny agreed, quickly picking his head back up. "She came out of the west in a big caravan of people, servants really. It was her dream to explore our lands, and her father only agreed if she went in great numbers." He stopped again, trying to recall facts he had only been told once, many years ago. "She… met… No," he corrected himself, "my father saw her in the streets. Her company stood out with their looks and their clothes, but she was the one that caught his attention with her auburn hair and violet eyes."

Vlad groaned and rolled his eyes. He then refilled his glass, suddenly feeling too sober to hear the love story of past Jack and Maddie.

"I will not bore you with the details—"

"Because you don't know the details," Vlad scoffed.

"But they fell in love." Danny released a wistful sigh. "She sent back every servant that came with her and had them tell her father that she was staying." He shrugged and sat back in his chair, having leaned so far forward that he might have fallen over if not for his magic. "After that, my sister was born. She had my mother's red hair and my grandmother's blue eyes, like I do… like I did. Before they…" He trailed off, gesturing passively at his green eyes that seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the room.

"Then you were born and lived a happy little life making other people miserable with your mischief until you eventually became a genie, yes?" Vlad's summation was not intended to make the other flinch and quiet down, but it did. Clearly the boy was saddened enough with his reminiscing. A reminder of his imprisonment— that his real family was long since dead and any matchmaking he had played that night was pointless— was perhaps the last thing he needed. "I'm sorry I sent you back to your bottle and put the lid on," he said slowly, surprised that he at least halfway meant what he was saying, "especially after I promised I wouldn't."

Danny nodded his thanks and pulled his legs up into the chair with him, his knees up around his chin and his arms wrapped defensively around them. "I did not care at first. I knew you would be back. But after a while, my mind started playing tricks on me. In my bottle with the opening sealed?" He drew in a shaky breath. "I began to convince myself that it had all been a dream, that you had never actually found my bottle. I wanted to scream, Master." His voice sounded desperate, and when he looked at Vlad, his eyes were wide with fear. "When I heard you coming back, I was almost ready to kiss you again."

Vlad looked at him for a moment, then stared at the unlit fireplace for a long while. "Get back in your bottle," he spoke evenly, still looking at the empty hearth and not his genie. "I… won't seal it."

Danny looked at the half full bottle on the table. "But I have to finish…"

The man stood and put his hand on his bony shoulder. "Drink it tomorrow if you have to. I'm going to bed now, and I don't want you up getting drunk while I'm trying to sleep."

Vlad walked away and fell into his bed, still clothed. Danny followed him and slunk away into his bottle for the night, happy beyond belief for that little hole of light above his head that decorated the ceiling of his bottle like the moon did the night sky.

* * *

Well, Maddie's gone. I tried to make it as nice as possible and not make her seem like a bad guy. Because I do love her. But we all know getting her out of the way was very necessary for the Vlad/Danny. Yup.


End file.
